My Life to Be
by sleepyvalentina
Summary: Forbidden attraction. Intense passion. Edward and Bella are committed to their significant others, who are equally committed to their jobs. There's no harm in platonic companionship. Is there? Commissioned by SassyKathy for the Support Stacie Auction.
1. Prologue

This is a mature story. There will be sex, profanity, and people behaving badly. If you're not old enough to place these activities in the appropriate context, please do not read.

No, I haven't abandoned Art After 5 and Counterpoint. A month ago, I signed up for the Support Stacie Author Auction and SassyK won a story about whatever she wanted. The prompt was hers, the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, and the title is Cole Porter's.

The story, however, is all mine.

As always, a huge thanks to WickedCicada, who talked me down from my literary cliff twice this week (and it's only Monday.)

"Are you my life to be, my dream come true  
Or will this dream of mine fade out of sight  
Like the moon growing dim, on the rim of the hill  
In the chill, still of the night..."

- Cole Porter

* * *

Chapter One

Prologue

* * *

It was by far the craziest thing she'd ever done. Still, as his fingertips grazed her bare arms, she couldn't find it in herself to ask him to stop. She knew she shouldn't want him to touch her, but from the second she felt his skin against hers, all thought of right, wrong, and her responsibilities to another man deserted her.

"Bella," Edward whispered. He pressed the palm of his hand against her cheek as he lowered his face toward hers.

She closed her eyes, inhaled his scent, and relished the anticipation of a fantasy about to come to fruition. They'd rallied against their attraction for months, but it proved stronger than their resistance, their free will, and their reason. It was even stronger than the commitments they had made to other people.

It was hard to believe that as recently as four months ago, Bella and Edward were still unknown to each other. The first time he saw her, she was standing outside a bar during happy hour as the brisk October wind whipped through her hair, leaving a rosy glow on her pale skin in its wake. Though he was already late and didn't have the time to spare, Edward spent several moments watching her from a few feet away. He was captivated by the stunning brunette who held a lit cigarette that she did not appear to be smoking. The vision was a beautiful enigma, and Edward was unable to look away. He wanted to approach her, but knew he shouldn't. After all, his fiancée was waiting inside the bar for him, and if the twelve text messages she'd sent him in the past twenty minutes were any indication, she was not doing so patiently.

He should have hurried inside and taken his place beside the woman to whom he'd offered forever, but instead he stood on the sidewalk transfixed, wondering if the young woman in front of him would feel uncomfortable if he approached her. And if he did, would she be willing to answer the two questions at the forefront of his mind? Namely, he wanted to know why she was pretending to have an addiction most people considered shameful and if was she single.

The latter question was irrelevant, as Edward was not romantically available to her. Still, he wanted to know how she'd answer and he wanted to know her, regardless of how she replied. His decision to approach her made, he spent a moment debating how to do so. When he finally addressed her, his face was adorned with his trademark half-smile, which experience had proven virtually irresistible to the opposite sex. He prayed it wouldn't fail him now.

"The least you could do is inhale. At six bucks a pack, you may as well get your money's worth."

Startled from her reverie, Bella lifted her cigarette to her lips and breathed in its fumes. Her lungs had never before been filled with smoke, and she began to cough uncontrollably causing the still-lit butt to fall from her hands. It found purchase on her foot, singeing the bare skin left exposed by her high-heeled pumps.

"Fuck." She grabbed the top of her foot and howled in agony, hopping on her weight-bearing leg in an acrobatic (if completely useless) attempt to distract herself from the sting of her scorched flesh.

Realizing her efforts were futile, she released her foot and folded her arms over her chest. She made a quick study of Edward, noting his broad shoulders, bright green eyes, and disheveled auburn hair. While doing so, Bella did not attempt to conceal her annoyance. Or her attraction.

"Can't a girl pretend to smoke in peace?"

She'd meant to make it clear to the strange but handsome man beside her that his attention was not welcome. Somehow, her words came out sounding more flirtatious than dismissive, and she knew she'd inadvertently encouraged him.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said apologetically. "I've just never seen a person stage smoke outside in frigid weather."

"Stage smoke?"

"You know. Pretend you have an addiction to a nasty habit that could kill you."

"It's illegal to smoke in public buildings in Philadelphia," Bella reminded him.

"Yes, but you weren't really smoking."

He was openly mocking her, and she loved it.

"It's not like running for president." Bella could no longer prevent herself from smiling. "I won't get out of paying the fine if I claim I didn't inhale."

He laughed, and she soon forgot about both the no-longer significant burn on her foot as well as her significant other waiting for her inside.

"Well, you have a point there. But why pretend in the first place?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm not going to reveal my secrets to you. I don't even know your name."

It was the invitation he'd been waiting for.

"I'm Edward. Nice to meet you."

He held out his hand to her, and she shook it tentatively.

"Bella."

"So, Bella..." Edward looked at her expectantly, and she sighed in resignation.

"I'm hiding from my boyfriend," she explained.

"You mean your ex-boyfriend."

"No, I mean my boyfriend."

Edward tried to wrap his mind around her admission. He was disappointed on both counts, that not only was she taken, but that the man who claimed her made her feel compelled to pretend to be someone she wasn't.

"That's insane."

"I do it all the time. Sometimes his work friends are hard to take."

"But he has to know you don't smoke."

Bella shook her head. "Actually, he doesn't."

"So one day, you just decided to take up fake smoking when you needed a moment to yourself?"

"Not exactly. It's kind of a long story, and I should be getting back inside." And away from temptation, Bella added silently. "It was nice meeting you, Edward." Seconds later, she vanished.

Edward lingered on the sidewalk, unable to suppress or define what he was feeling, but completely aware that he was not yet ready to let it go. He knew that one way or another, he'd see Bella again. It just never occurred to him that it would happen only five minutes later. When Edward finally joined his girlfriend at happy hour, she ushered him over to a table at which he found Bella sitting with her significant other. As a bizarre stroke of luck would have it, Bella's boyfriend shared an office with Edward's fiancée.

Over the next few months, Edward saw Bella again and again, sometimes even with the encouragement of his betrothed. Officially, they were friends who entertained each other during the hours they were abandoned by their corporate ladder-climbing partners. Beneath the surface, their intense connection deepened despite the fact they were unwilling to verbally acknowledge it. That was a line Bella believed they would never cross, until one afternoon when Edward arrived at her apartment, clearly distraught but unwilling to discuss why.

Bella asked him what was wrong, but he didn't answer. Instead, he shook his head before leaning into her as if he was about to kiss her, but his eyes bore all the lusty intensity of a man who had no intention of letting it stop there. It was ridiculous under the circumstances, but he couldn't help but feel his entire life had been leading to this moment. Edward was done fighting fate. He simply needed to know if Bella felt the same way.

Resting his forehead against hers, he cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Tell me to stop and I will." His voice was heavy with the anguish of anticipation.

Thankfully, Bella didn't make him wait long before she closed the small distance between them.

"Don't _ever_ stop," she whispered before pressing her lips to his.

From that moment, they both knew.

There would be no going back.

* * *

_This will be a multi-chaptered story. SassyK is currently more nervous than a first-time father in the waiting room while his wife labors. Reviews are her valium. :)_


	2. Day's Night Today, Black's White Today

I don't own Twilight.

Thanks to cicada, as always.

* * *

_Chapter Two_

_Day's Night Today, Black's White Today  
_

* * *

"Emmett McCarty, please."

When Celine Dion's wail gave Bella confirmation that the receptionist had indeed placed her on hold, she activated her phone's speaker and stretched out on her bed, knowing from experience it would be a while before her boyfriend answered his office line. Halfway through the song, the music was replaced by a ring. Bella was not at all surprised when she was greeted once again by the receptionist. It was, after all, her fourth unsuccessful attempt at contacting her boyfriend that evening.

"He isn't answering his line," the receptionist replied in her nasal voice. "Would you like his voice mail?"

"No, thank you."

Bella was becoming more frustrated with each passing second. She'd left Emmett two messages already, one on his office line and one on his cell phone. Before she could think better of it, the words rolled off her lips.

"Is Rosalie Hale available?"

"Let me try her extension. One moment, please."

The woman whom Bella detested more than she could possibly articulate answered on the second ring.

"Rosalie Hale."

Bella chose to ignore the fact she could hear Emmett talking in the background.

"Hi, Rose. It's Bella. I've been trying to get in touch with Emmett all day. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find him, would you?"

"I'm so sorry, Bella, but I haven't seen him all afternoon."

The moment Rose uttered Bella's name, all noise from her office ceased.

"Well, if you see him, could you tell him I'm trying to get in touch with him?"

"I'll tell him if I see him."

As always, Bella was amazed by the ease with which Rose lied to her.

"Thank you, Rose."

"No problem. Bye."

Bella had no sooner ended the call, when her phone began ringing with a call from Emmett's cell.

"I've been trying to get hold of you for an hour now."

"Tied up in meetings. You wouldn't believe how crazy things are over here. What do you need?"

He sounded annoyed by Bella's interruption and not at all contrite that he'd forgotten their plans.

"It's our six-month anniversary, remember? We had plans for tonight that technically began forty-five minutes ago."

"Shit, Bella, I'm sorry. Rose and I have a presentation to do tomorrow and we're nowhere near ready. It's going to be another late night."

Emmett frequently blew off plans with Bella due to unforeseen work emergencies, but she never thought he would do so on such an important night.

"I just wish you'd told me sooner. I've been waiting for you for almost an hour. Had I known you wouldn't make it, I could have called a girlfriend and kept our reservation at Le Bec. I was really looking forward to it."

"Is that what this is about?" He started to laugh. "You can go out to eat by yourself, you know."

"That's not the problem, and you know it. Tonight was supposed to be special. I realize that working late is sometimes unavoidable, but waiting until now to cancel is fucking inconsiderate."

"I'm sorry, Bella. I honestly didn't have time to call you until now. Sometimes things just come up..."

Bella was angry that Emmett said this like it was something she didn't already know. The fact was, things came up more often than not. She opened her mouth to respond, but instead bit her lip and sighed. Unwilling to risk saying something she'd regret, she chose to say nothing at all.

"Look, I don't have time for this. I'll call you tomorrow. Try to have fun without me."

The line went dead before Bella could reply, and within seconds her disappointment morphed into anger. She threw her phone down onto her bed and pulled a barely there black dress out of her closet. She would take Emmett's advice, but with a slight modification. Bella had no intention of trying to enjoy her night out alone. She was planning to succeed.

It was too late to go to Le Bec Fin, but that was fine with her. Bella had no desire to have a quiet, romantic dinner alone. However, beer and noise appealed to her greatly, and after she walked out of her apartment building, she headed to Monk's. She had no sooner settled onto a bar stool and ordered herself a Chimay when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Shouldn't you be outside wasting Marlboros? Never mind, Emmett's working late. There's no need for your ruse."

Bella turned to find Edward standing behind her, wearing a gray suit that appeared to be bespoke. His tie was loosened and the top of his shirt was unbuttoned, indicating that _his _workday was over. She wanted to know if he'd had plans with Rose that she'd canceled last minute, and if he hated Rose's long hours as much as she hated Emmett's.

Edward smiled at her, and Bella wondered why she was wasting time thinking about Emmett and Rose when Edward was standing close enough to her that she could touch him, something that in rare moments of complete honesty with herself, she acknowledged she very much wanted to do.

"It's more about his coworkers than him, you know." Bella patted the stool next to her.

"Oh, you mean like my fiancée?" he joked as he took a seat.

Bella wondered if he was partially serious, and if he knew the extent of her dislike for Rose.

"Is she on her way? Shit, I think I need a cigarette."

Edward knew Bella was kidding, but there was an edge to her voice he couldn't ignore.

"Why do you dislike her?" he asked.

"Is that a serious question? I mean, we're talking about Rose."

Edward looked surprised, and Bella realized she had just insulted the woman he was planning to marry.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak disparagingly about your girlfriend. I've only ever interacted with her at work functions. In all fairness to her, it's mostly jealousy on my part. She gets to spend far more time with Emmett than I do, and I'm bitter about that. Take tonight, for example. It's my and Em's six-month anniversary. Rose is with him. Meanwhile, I'm sitting alone at a bar drowning my sorrows in triple-fermented Belgian beer. So you see, it's nothing against her personally. I'm sure she's lovely in social settings."

Edward looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Am I so dull I don't count?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said you were alone at a bar and technically, you're not. I _did_ come over and join you."

It hadn't occurred to Bella that Edward was planning on lingering any longer than his acknowledgment of her (which she perceived as obligatory) required.

"Oh."

She felt simultaneously relieved that he wasn't planning to leave any time soon and guilty for how excited this revelation made her. The latter soon began to eclipse the former, and even though it was the last thing she wanted, she felt compelled to offer him an out.

"Though I appreciate the gesture, you're under no obligation to spend the next few hours sitting at the bar with me."

"Good to know."

Edward slid off his stool and walked away, leaving Bella wondering how she could have felt so drawn to someone who couldn't wait to get away from her. Moments later, he reappeared and gestured for her to follow him.

"I actually hate sitting at bars, so I got us a table. It will be easier to hear each other that way."

Edward led Bella to a booth, where they sat down and ordered dinner. She knew she shouldn't feel like she was on a date, but for some reason unknown to her she did. She shook her head in slight confusion, a motion which did not escape Edward.

"What?" he asked, smiling.

"I just realized how little I know about you. Last week at happy hour, we didn't really talk."

Edward laughed. "I'm not all that interesting, but feel free to ask me whatever you'd like."

Bella wanted to know everything, but didn't want to scare him. She decided to start with the basics.

"What's your full name?"

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen."

"Is that three first names or two last names?"

"Two last names and one very long story," he explained.

"I have time."

Bella was mortified by her own enthusiasm.

"My maternal aunt and her husband adopted me when I was eight and out of respect for them, I added their last name."

"That wasn't a long story."

"No, I suppose it wasn't." He shrugged.

"What happened to your parents?"

"They died in a car accident."

"I'm sorry." Bella had no way of knowing the answer to her seemingly harmless question would be so tragic, but she felt awful regardless.

"It's okay. You didn't know."

Edward offered her a sincere smile, and she was able to relax. After he took a sip of his beer, he pressed her to continue.

"Your turn. Full name, please."

"Isabella Marie Swan." She rolled her eyes. "My middle name is boring, but my parents more than made up for that with the unfortunate combination of my first and last names."

"It isn't _that _bad," Edward insisted. "If it makes you feel better, I know a man named Dick Seaman."

Bella couldn't contain her laughter. "Okay, he wins. Seriously, I know it could be worse but I was harassed quite a bit for it when I was a kid."

"Kids will make fun of anyone for anything."

"True." Bella nervously twirled her napkin around her finger in her lap. "But when your name means beautiful swan and you are neither pretty nor graceful, bullies don't need to look too hard for material."

Edward studied the woman across from him. She was pale and lovely, with full lips, thick shoulder-length brown hair and huge dark eyes. He had a hard time imagining what she looked like during the awkward years of adolescence, but her actual appearance didn't matter to him as much as the idea that she'd apparently allowed the cruelty of other children to affect her self-image.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I was a high school band geek?"

Bella perked up, her curiosity immediately piqued. "Were you?"

"No," he admitted.

"I hate you."

"You love me."

Bella didn't love Edward, and the fact that she hardly knew him made his statement so preposterous it could only be a joke. Still, she felt drawn to him, and in the few days she'd been aware of his existence, found herself daydreaming about him more often than she cared to admit. For this reason alone, Bella corrected him.

"I love Emmett, and you love Rose."

There was an awkward silence, during which Edward's mind wandered back to Rose and how he could feel more at ease with this virtual stranger he'd known only five days than he did with Rose, with whom he'd been in a committed relationship for nearly five years.

Eventually, their easy banter resumed. By the end of the evening, they'd covered most of the basics:

Edward was an engineer-turned-attorney who now worked in patent law, and Bella was a pediatric nurse practitioner. He lived with Rose in Olde City. Bella lived alone on Rittenhouse Square. He was a classically trained pianist, and she could kind of carry a tune, but only when drinking. They both thought Coldplay was overrated, SEPTA was inefficient, and that the Phillies would have a hard time beating the Dodgers in the NLCS unless their bullpen improved. They were both initially disappointed they would not be seeing their significant others that evening, but they agreed the night turned out far better than either of them could have hoped.

Edward insisted on walking Bella back to her apartment building, where they exchanged business cards and cell phone numbers. They parted ways with an awkward handshake, both wanting to express affection but unsure of what was appropriate.

As Bella's head touched her pillow, she realized that she enjoyed Edward's company too much to worry if his motives were pure, and acknowledged a small part of her wished they weren't.

Across town, Edward climbed into his empty bed and quickly fell asleep. He spent the next six hours dreaming about sex with Bella. When he awoke alone (and under a tent) he was overwhelmingly disappointed that his dreams would never become reality.

It wasn't until he got in the shower that he realized this bothered him more than the fact Rose had stayed at work all night. The moment he woke up, he should have called Rose to make sure she was okay. He should have felt guilty that while she was slaving at the office, he was out with another woman. He should have known better.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around his cock, allowing his mind to focus on something else he should know but probably never would.

How it would feel to come inside Bella.

* * *

_SassyK and I are faking smoking Cubans right now because of all your lovely reviews. Just kidding. We smoke the Cubans for real. _


	3. Most Gentleman Don't Like Love

I don't own Twilight.

Thanks to wickedcicada.

* * *

_Chapter Three_

_Most Gentlemen Don't Like Love_

_(they just like to kick it around)_

_

* * *

  
_

Emmett pulled off his glasses and rubbed his temples. He hadn't wanted to hurt Bella. In the time he knew her, she'd been nothing but patient and understanding, not only of his long hours, but of his decision to prioritize his career above all else. At thirty-two years old, Emmett was the youngest senior VP at his firm. His feet were firmly planted on what was commonly referred to as the fast track, though the route before him at the moment was neither direct or quickly moving. Emmett knew exactly what was expected of him, but at moments like this, actually doing it was easier said than done.

About a month ago, Emmett was called into his boss' office for his annual performance review. The assessment of his work was glowing, with a single caveat. Emmett was a micro-manager bordering on a control freak who needed to trust his direct reports to do their jobs. So he took a step back. He gave assignments and deadlines, and occasionally asked for updates. He didn't hover, and he didn't check the work of his team. He trusted that it was completed correctly, never once anticipating that his doing so would cause the veritable shit storm he now faced – both on a personal and professional level.

"You're going to catch hell, aren't you?" Rose poured herself another cup of coffee before joining Emmett at the conference table.

"Probably. I'm not going to whine about it. I deserve it."

"There's no way you could have known there would be a software glitch and the reports would be wrong."

"No," he admitted. "But had I lit a fire under the asses of the developers, Bella and I would be at Le Bec Fin right now, laughing at how crazy Georges Perrier is and eating wild mushroom risotto. Instead, I'm elbow deep in code and faulty data, cursing myself for delegating this project in the first place. And do you know what the worst part is?"

Rose looked up from her laptop and pushed a lock of blond hair that had somehow escaped her chignon behind her ear. The large diamond on the fourth finger of her left hand caught the light, and Emmett remembered she, too, had disappointed her significant other by staying at work.

He immediately felt like an ass.

"Never mind, Rose. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to listen to me moan."

She shrugged. "It's okay. You'll be more productive if you let it out."

"Did you have plans with Edward?"

"Yes, but it's no big deal. We were just going to Monk's for beer and mussels. He was mildly annoyed, but he didn't make an issue of it. He's been known to put in very long hours himself, therefore he has no room to talk. His career is every bit as important to him as mine is to me. He knows getting pissed off at me for working late would be incredibly hypocritical."

"That's the worst part. Bella isn't pissed."

"Oh, really?" Rose challenged him. "Is that why you were hiding from her all afternoon?"

Emmett took off his tie and threw it onto the conference table in frustration. "Was it that obvious?"

"A word of advice. If you're hiding from your girlfriend already, whom you've only dated six months and don't live with, it doesn't say much about your prospects for long term relationship success. Edward and I lived together for over a year before he started avoiding me when he was angry."

"That's just it. Bella isn't angry. And you know what? I wish she was. I can handle that. Yell at me, throw stuff at me, call me names. That's fine. That's what guys do, and I know how to respond to it. Bella's not like that. She's sensitive and delicate and just so god damned girly. She doesn't get mad, she gets hurt. She doesn't raise her voice, she gives me the silent treatment and averts her eyes, thinking that if she's staring at her lap, I won't notice she's crying. I ask her what's wrong, and she says she's fine. So I tell her that I know she isn't fine, because she wouldn't be crying otherwise and she still doesn't tell me what's wrong. This goes on for hours, but we don't resolve anything because she doesn't fucking tell me what she wants. It's like she expects me to read her mind, then gets all disappointed when I don't, like I can help the fact I'm not Miss Cleo. And it's not just Bella. Every woman I have ever dated does the exact same thing. You probably pull that shit, too."

"What, passive-aggressive sulking?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, that."

"No, I don't do that."

Emmett looked at Rose in amazement. "You're kidding me."

"I'm totally serious. I don't pout or cry. I yell and throw things. If that doesn't make me feel better, I either hit the bar or the driving range, depending upon what time of day it is. There's nothing that a tequila shot or an hour of intense physical activity can't cure."

Emmett laughed. "And that, Rose, is why you are so good at business."

"Because I golf?" she joked.

"No, though that helps, too. You're a man trapped in the body of a Victoria's Secret model. It's a lethal combination."

Rose wasn't sure if she should be insulted or flattered. She decided to put the focus back on Bella.

"You don't think Bella gets you?"

Emmett thought for a moment before he answered. "She doesn't understand why success is so important to me, why I'm so driven to get to the top."

"Surely, she understands avarice," Rose teased.

"_That _she would understand, even if she didn't agree with it."

Rose didn't understand Bella any more than Bella understood Emmett, but that didn't matter. Rose was extremely observant, and let Bella's actions speak for themselves. They clearly indicated that Bella hated Rose with a passion. Though the feeling was mutual, Rose did not like being placed in the middle of Bella/Emmett drama. This was happening with increasing frequency, and Rose wanted it to stop.

"You know Bella dislikes me. Continuously putting me in positions where I have to lie to her doesn't exactly help the situation."

"I know, Rose. I'm sorry."

"A word of advice, Em. If you called her at noon and explained the situation, apologized profusely, and had flowers sent to her office, she would been disappointed but she would have understood."

He leaned back in his chair and rested a pen against his lips. "Does stuff like that really make a difference?"

"If you're Bella, yes."

"Would it make a difference to you?"

"No. I mean, I would be annoyed if the guy I was dating blew me off. But if he came home and blew _me_, I'd get over it fairly quickly."

Emmett's cock responded to Rose's statement before he could mentally formulate a verbal reply. His mind went right to the gutter, and he was grateful when seconds later, the other members of their team began filing into the conference room.

It was time to get back to business.

Clearing his throat, Emmett adjusted himself under the table and addressed his coworkers. "I hope you all tanked up on coffee, snorted your ritalin, smoked your cigarettes and did whatever else it is you do when you need to stay awake. Tonight's going to be a long one. No one goes home until the reports are corrected. I refuse to be humiliated in front of our biggest client."

Eleven hours later, the crisis was averted. Rose went home to shower and change. She opened the door quietly and tiptoed through her apartment, not wanting to wake Edward if he was still sleeping. After spending all night working on reports, Rose was completely exhausted and hoped more coffee would get her awake enough to survive the day. She went to the kitchen to brew some, surprised to find Edward standing at the counter pouring himself a cup.

"You know, darling, there's a difference between working late and staying out all night."

She shrugged and pulled a mug from the cabinet. "It was unavoidable."

"In the future, I would appreciate it if you would tell me if you're not coming home."

Rose placed the cup on the counter and crossed her arms. She was too tired to deal with Edward hinting he was upset with her.

"What are you talking about? I called you four times, left three voice mails, and sent you a text message. Don't give me any of your shit."

"You did?"

Rose nodded.

"I'm sorry." Edward was immediately contrite. "I wonder if something is wrong with my Blackberry."

"Have it looked at today. You probably missed more calls than mine." She stretched onto her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before walking out of the kitchen. "By the way, we managed to fix the software glitch. Thanks for asking," she called as she headed into the bathroom.

On his way out the door, Edward picked up his briefcase and Blackberry. Sure enough, Rose had called him multiple times while he was at Monk's with Bella. His Blackberry had been in his pocket all evening. He wondered how he possibly could have missed it vibrating, as he was such a slave to the tiny piece of black plastic, he could sense incoming calls in his sleep. As he walked into the chilly morning air, he realized Bella's simple presence had distracted him to such an extent he was unable to notice anything but her.

He knew he was in trouble.

* * *

A shorter chapter, but it needed to end here. Some housekeeping stuff -

The chapter titles are taken from Cole Porter songs.

This story will stay in third person omni all the way through. One of my peeves as a reader (and I know I'm in the minority here) is too many POV changes. This story would impossible to tell in first person without changing POV multiple times each chapter. Therefore, it needs to be in third person. Trust me. It will be a better experience this way.

So, is Rose and Emmett's relationship what you thought it would be?


	4. To Live It Again Is Past All Endeavor

I don't own Twilight.

Thanks to wickedcicada.

* * *

_Chapter Four_

_To Live It Again Is Past All Endeavor_

* * *

It had been a long day, and as Bella breezed past the doorman of her apartment building, all she could think about was how much she wanted to soak it all away in a hot bubble bath. As she rode the elevator to her floor, she took her phone out of her pocket and reread Edward's text message—

_I had a great time last night. Call me whenever you want._

It was polite and succinct, and she knew she should take it at face value. Still, as she stared at it for the sixth time in as many hours, she wondered if there was more to it than that. Had she received the same message from a man who was not engaged to be married, she would have interpreted it as an expression of romantic interest. The elevator doors opened and she hurried down the hall to her apartment, expecting that she would spend the rest of the evening pondering Edward's intentions.

What she didn't expect was to find Emmett leaning against the door to her apartment, his arms full of orange roses. He gave her his trademark smile, a facial expression which in the past could make her forget her own name. In this instance, he was simply hoping she would forget she was angry with him. For the first time ever, Emmett's smile failed him.

"Please move."

It wasn't the greeting he had hoped for, but it was a start.

"I'm sorry, Bella."

Bella could tell his apology was sincere and as she pressed her key into the lock, her demeanor softened. Even so, Bella knew all too well that regret, even when genuine, is meaningless without a determination to change.

"That's not enough anymore." She pushed the door open, and he followed her inside her apartment. She took off her coat and shoes, going about her evening routine as if Emmett weren't there. Undeterred by his chilly reception, he continued to speak.

"I fucked up, and I know it. I'm not going to make excuses for myself, because there is no excuse."

Emmett followed Bella into her kitchen. She flicked on the light before turning to him, flailing her arms in frustration.

"Why are you even with me?"

"You _know _why." His voice was barely audible.

"I meant still." She turned away from him and leaned on the counter. "Why are you with me _still_?"

"I love you," he answered automatically, before realizing that Bella was not simply fishing for reassurance. "Wait, are you saying you have doubts?" He placed the roses on the counter and nudged Bella to face him, but she continued to stare at the floor. "Talk to me, Bella. Is it the hours I spend at work? I'm trying to cut back...to delegate more. Everyone is just so fucking incompetent."

"Except Rose," she muttered dryly, still not meeting Emmett's gaze.

"Rose has been a godsend."

"I'm sure she has." Bella hit the side of her head with her hand, groaning in frustration. For the next several moments, they stood in silence. Emmett wondered what Bella was suggesting and wished she would just speak her mind.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Bella straightened her posture and raised her now tear-filled eyes to meet his.

"How long have you been sleeping with her?"

"I'm _not_ sleeping with Rose," he stated emphatically.

"But you would if you if she were available to you."

"I'm not going deny I find her attractive, Bella. But there is not presently, nor will there ever be, anything going on between Rose and me." He searched through his mind to find the words that would most reassure Bella. "She doesn't appeal to me the way you do. She and I are too alike. If I wanted to have sex with someone exactly like me, I'd just jerk off."

Bella let out a small laugh, but there was no humor behind it.

"Come here," he said quietly, pulling her into his arms.

She didn't resist, instead snaking her arms around his waist and resting her face against his chest. Being in his arms felt so wonderful, she nearly forgot she was angry with him and that she had legitimate reasons to wonder if in attempting to work things out, they were doing nothing more than prolonging the inevitable.

"I don't want to be an obligation to you."

"You aren't." The immediacy of his words helped assure Bella of their sincerity.

Still, they were just words and even if Emmett did mean them, Bella needed more than that. She stepped out of his embrace.

"I think we should take some time off and reevaluate our priorities."

Emmett took a step back and looked at her. "No, you think _I_ should reevaluate _my _priorities."

"That's not what I said."

"But isn't it what you meant?"

"No. I have some things to think about as well. Em, we're not married or even living together. We haven't reproduced, so it's not like we have children to worry about. If it's not working between us, there's nothing stopping us from cutting our losses and getting out. As it is, I may as well be single. I feel like I'm alone more frequently than anyone in a relationship should be, and even when we're together..."

She shook her head, sighing. "Even when you're here, you're not really here. I don't complain about the long hours and the constant attachment to your BlackBerry because I don't feel I have a right to. You told me how it would be. Before I even agreed to a first date, you warned me that your job would always come first. Do you know how it feels to be sitting across a table from someone, yet still feel completely alone?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

Bella couldn't believe he even had to ask. "No."

"No, I don't," he admitted.

"That doesn't surprise me," she said mostly to herself, shaking her head in defeat. "I thought I could do this. I _wanted_ to do this. But I just can't. I need more."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Bella rubbed her temples, then dropped her arms to her sides. "At the very least, I think we should reevaluate our exclusivity."

"You want permission to sleep with other guys."

"No, Em," Bella spat back. "But if the opportunity presents itself, I'd like to be able to enjoy guilt-free male company from time to time." In an attempt to calm herself down, she took a few deep breaths. "Do you know what I did after you stood me up last night?"

"I hope you went out and had fun."

"Oh, I did. And promptly felt like shit about it afterward."

Emmett looked at her perplexedly. He knew Bella detested infidelity, but she was talking as if she were guilty.

"Did you..."

"No," she answered before he could even finish his question. "But considering I see you once a week if I'm lucky, I shouldn't feel as though I have to decline other invitations. And if I do accept, I should not feel as though I've betrayed you by doing so."

Emmett knew Bella wasn't being at all unreasonable, which only increased the sting of her request. Determined not to lose her, he devised a plan.

"You're welcome to see whomever you like, but I don't anticipate that you'll have much free time with which to do so. I plan on keeping you very busy, starting right now. I meant it when I said I would do everything I could to make last night up to you. I can't get us into Le Bec Fin on this short notice, but I'm sure there's a table open somewhere."

She looked at him with rage, and he realized his mistake.

"Of course, that's only if you want to spend time with me. You're upset, and justifiably so. I'm willing to do whatever you want—go out, stay in, leave..."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I think you should leave."

"Okay." It was just as well. He needed to go back to the office and take care of a few things. If Bella was going to be his first priority henceforth, he needed to take advantage of every second he wasn't with her.

Despite her obvious anger, he kissed her cheek before heading toward the door. He was about to let himself out when he realized his gaffe. There were many things that he knew, things that he understood completely and accepted as true. Still, in moments of insecurity, it helped to be reminded.

He turned around and looked across the living room to where Bella stood in her tiny galley kitchen. As his mind played a montage of the weekend they met, he no longer struggled to find the words with which to convey exactly why he wanted to be with her, why it was with her and only her he envisioned building a future.

"You're the most inherently good person I've ever known. You do what you believe is right, regardless of the consequences you might face for doing so. You're selfless and beautiful, inside and out." He opened the door and stepped over the threshold, addressing Bella a final time before he left. "That's why I'm with you, and that's why I love you."

Before Bella could formulate a response, he was gone.

After she heard the click of the lock, Bella relaxed her posture, giving in to her fatigue from an emotionally trying twenty-four hours. As she placed the roses in water, she replayed Emmett's words in her head. If he meant what he said, if he really was going to try, things would be perfect. She would no longer physically react to a simple text message from Edward, because her needs would be met by Emmett, the man she loved and hoped for a future with. Between her career and her relationship, she would be fulfilled. Bella chanted this mantra in her head until consciousness left her, hoping she could convince herself it was true.

She failed and dreamt of Edward.


	5. If Some Night You Are Free

I don't own Twilight.

Thanks to wickedcicada.

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_Chapter Five_

_If Some Night You Are Free, Then It's All Right with Me_

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"Is Emmett working on Saturday yet again?"

The bluntness of Alice's statement didn't surprise Bella. Over the past few months, she'd gotten quite used to it. There were many words that sprang to Bella's mind when she thought of Alice's considerable positive attributes. Subtlety appeared nowhere on the list.

Bella didn't mind. She found Alice's ability to be forthright refreshing, especially when compared to the rest of her female friends—well, her former female friends. Still, Bella met Alice through Emmett, and despite Alice's assurances to the contrary, she didn't feel it was appropriate to badmouth him to one of their mutual friends.

"Probably," Bella replied, sipping her latté.

Alice shook her head and pushed a lock of her angular bob behind her ear. Bella had known Alice for almost as long as she'd known Emmett, and there were still times when she was stunned by Alice's beauty. Like most people of mixed ancestry, Alice had inherited the best features of her Thai mother and English father. The results were striking. She had her mother's stature, hair and complexion, and her father's light eyes. If Alice weren't under five feet tall, Bella was certain she could have been a supermodel.

"I don't know how you put up with his work schedule."

Alice's voice startled Bella, who was slightly embarrassed that she was gawking at her friend.

"Well, in all fairness to him, this morning he called and asked if I wanted to go away with him for the weekend, and I declined."

"What? You've been saying you wanted time alone with him for weeks."

"I know. And I would have been delighted, if he weren't offering simply because I told him I wanted to see other people last night."

"Whoa. Back up a second. What?"

"It's a long story."

"I don't care. Start at the beginning."

"I don't want to put you in the middle..." Bella stopped speaking when she noticed Edward walking toward their table, coffee in hand.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, smiling broadly. "Mind if I join you?"

Bella wanted very much for Edward to sit down with them. Her only reservation was that she'd never be able to hide her attraction to him from Alice, whose observation skills were legendary.

"Not at all." Alice answered Edward before Bella could even mentally process his request. "I'm Alice, by the way."

"Edward," he said, shaking Alice's hand before taking the seat next to Bella.

Despite the fact he was not touching her, Bella's entire body was acutely aware of his presence.

"I'm sorry," Bella stammered, realizing she had been too shocked and preoccupied by Edward's presence to remember that he and Alice did not know each other. "Apparently, this..." She held up her cup. "...hasn't kicked in yet. What are you even doing on this side of town?"

"I just finished up at the Sporting Club."

Alice snorted. "You work out at the Sporting Club?"

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," he said.

"It's where the wealthy get healthy," Bella teased.

"They have wonderful amenities, and I play a lot of squash."

Bella and Alice continued laughing, much to Edward's consternation.

"Is it _that _much of a cliché?" he asked finally.

"I don't know. You tell me." There was a hint of challenge in Alice's voice. She pushed up her sleeves and leaned toward Edward. "Where are you from?"

"Princeton."

Like a weapon of mass interrogation, Alice continued to fire questions.

"Where did you go to high school?"

"Lawrenceville."

"Undergrad?"

"Cornell."

"Your major?"

"Civil engineering."

"Where did you earn your professional degree?"

"Which one?" he smirked, resting his elbows on the table.

"Any and all."

"My master's is also from Cornell, and my JD is from Penn."

"And your trust fund? Never mind, you don't have to answer that one. Yes, you _are_ that much of a cliché."

Though slightly embarrassed by Alice's grilling of Edward, Bella couldn't help but be impressed. She'd managed to find out more about Edward in three minutes than Bella had during the three hours she'd spent with him the night before last.

"That being said," Alice continued, "I should get going, or I'll be late for lunch with my mother. Nice meeting you," she said to Edward before standing up and turning to Bella. "You're not off the hook. I'll call you later, and I want to hear all about it. Bye." She popped in her earbuds and vanished in a cloud of Coco Mademoiselle.

Bella assumed that Edward would move to the seat Alice had just vacated, so he would be sitting across from her rather than beside her, but he made no motion to relocate. Instead, he angled his body so he could have a better view of Bella without increasing the distance between them.

"Not off the hook from what?" he asked.

"Emmett and I had a bit of falling out, and Alice wants all the details."

"And you don't want to talk about it?"

"Not exactly." Bella fidgeted with the plastic lid of her cup. "It would be good to discuss it with someone, but not Alice. She's a mutual friend of mine and Emmett's, but she was his friend first, and it feels wrong to put her in the middle, despite how much I'd love to have an unbiased third-party opinion. At the same time, I don't really have anyone else with whom I could talk about it."

"Alice is your only friend?"

"With the exception of Emmett and a handful of work acquaintances that I'd prefer didn't know my business, yes."

Edward had a hard time wrapping his mind around this detail. "Are you a workaholic, too?

"No. My friends and I had a bit of a falling out about six months ago."

The significance of the timing did not escape him. "Over Emmett?"

"Not over Emmett, but he was involved."

"Are you being intentionally cryptic?"

"No, I just can't imagine you want to hear to my sob story."

"That couldn't be further from the truth. There's nothing I wouldn't enjoy knowing about you." Edward rested his hand on top of Bella's, and she felt a flutter between her legs. Her mind played images of what it meant to be known to someone, with Edward doing the exploration. Bella's breath caught in her throat and she felt a bit flushed, yet she kept her hand completely still beneath his lest an unintended motion give him the erroneous impression that she didn't want him to touch her.

"Oh, I could think of a few things."

"I'll make a deal with you then," he said. "You start talking, and if we enter the TMI zone, I'll let you know."

"Okay." Bella let out a long sigh, wondering where to start. "My friend Maria was supposed to get married, and I was one of her bridesmaids. She'd cheated on her fiancé, Jasper, on a few different occasions in the months leading up to the wedding, but swore up and down that it was just because he was deployed and away for so many months and she needed some kind of physical release."

"Where was he stationed?"

"Afghanistan. Anyway, the night of the rehearsal dinner, I showed up at her hotel room to help her get ready, and I caught her and some random guy in the act. I told her she had to tell Jasper or call off the wedding. She agreed, and said she'd talk to Jasper later that night. A few hours after the dinner ended, she called me and claimed she'd told him everything, and he still wanted to go through with it.

"Something about it just didn't sit right with me. I pulled up the email she'd sent with wedding party contact info and called Jasper's best man. Really, I just wanted to know how Jasper was holding up after talking to Maria. He explained to me that Jasper hadn't spoken to Maria since the rehearsal dinner, and that all of the groomsmen were out at a bar. I just couldn't let Jasper go through with the wedding without all of the information. I mean, if it had been me, I would want to know. So I told his best friend what I'd witnessed that morning. He thanked me, and then expressed concern that I would lose one of my best friends over this. I told him that doing the right thing was more important. Anyway, that's when my girlfriends from college stopped speaking to me and how I met Emmett."

"Emmett?" he asked.

"Yes. He was Jasper's best man. Jasper called off the wedding, and a week later Emmett asked me out."

"What happened to Jasper?"

"Remember Alice?"

He nodded.

"She's his new girlfriend."

Edward stared down at Bella and squeezed her hand. He'd never met another person so willing to put herself on the line to spare a virtual stranger pain. It was both an attribute and a flaw, and he wondered how frequently her need to do what she perceived was right eclipsed her sense of self-preservation. Before this morning, he wanted to know her and (as much as it pained him to admit it) touch her. Now he found himself also wanting to protect her—at any cost to him—the way she'd protected Jasper. Moreover, it infuriated him that Emmett obviously didn't feel the same way.

"See?" He smiled at her in an attempt to lighten the mood. "It all worked out. Everyone got what they deserved."

"Except six months later, none of my girlfriends are speaking to me."

"No offense, but it doesn't seem like much of a loss."

"As awful as it sounds, I miss them only at times like this. Alice shouldn't have to listen to me whine about one of her closest friends. It's not fair to her."

"Whine to me."

Bella shook her head. "I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"Well..." Bella squirmed in her seat. "You're a guy, for starters."

"Wait, so the fact I have a cock disqualifies me from being your confidante?"

Bella had been having a hard enough time not thinking of Edward's equipment _before_ he brought it into their conversation. Now that he had, she was having difficulty focusing on anything else. Her eyes fell to his crotch, and she found herself wondering if underneath his jeans he wore boxers or briefs, and if the simple feeling of his hand on hers had his body reacting in the same way hers was. She continued staring at his fly like a diabetic kid in a candy store, wanting to taste it all but knowing it could never be hers.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "Come have lunch with me. You can talk about it or not talk about it; it's up to you."

"Won't Rose miss you?"

"No, she's at work."

"Okay."

"How about Italian?" He stood up, lifting his hand from hers in the process. Even though she knew she'd be spending the afternoon with him, she still instantly missed his touch. "There's this great place in Society Hill."

"Sounds perfect." She tossed her empty cup into the trash can and followed Edward up the escalator to street level.

They stepped out into the brisk fall air, and Edward got a taxi. He spent the entire duration of the ride fighting the urge to rest his hand on her thigh, sadly grateful that if he couldn't be her lover he could be something she appeared to need more—her friend. It would have to be enough.

* * *


	6. Down in the Depths of the 90th Floor

I don't own Twilight.

Huge thanks to wickedcicada.

By the way, I recently discovered _Times New Roman_ by kathy-rindhoops and IBSward pwns me.

* * *

_Chapter Six_

_Down in the Depths of the Ninetieth Floor  
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"This place is fabulous," Bella said, looking at the exposed brick around her. "I can't believe I've never been here before."

"Best Caesar salad in town, and they prepare it tableside."

"Well, I know what I'll start with." Bella smiled at Edward before looking back at her menu. They were just friends having lunch, and she shouldn't feel as if she were on a date, but she did. Determined to remind herself that he was not available, Bella changed the subject. "So, how did you meet Rose?"

Edward shifted in his seat. He wasn't comfortable discussing Rose with Bella, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Bella already knew that he had made a commitment to Rose. Bella had witnessed Edward kiss Rose hello and goodbye, and she'd seen the diamond on the fourth finger of Rose's left hand. Yet he found himself wanting to keep that part of his life completely separate from Bella, much the same way Rose compartmentalized her career from her personal life—as something Rose needed as an individual to feel fulfilled. Edward found himself internally justifying his burgeoning friendship with Bella to his better judgment as something he needed, independent of his betrothed, not to feel fulfilled, but to feel _alive_. He attributed this solely to Bella and her quick wit, her profound sense of decency and her amusing quirks. Edward never once considered even for a moment Bella represented to him everything he ever wanted that he did not currently have. For that reason alone, he answered Bella's question.

"In undergrad. We dated most of senior year, then parted amicably after graduation. I was staying in Ithaca for my master's, and she had a job lined up in New York City. We kept tabs on each other through mutual friends, until she relocated to Philadelphia. Once she was settled, she called me and as strange as it seems, we sort of picked up where we left off."

"And you were still compatible?" Bella was amazed. She'd had acquaintances who had married their college sweethearts, some of whom were still quite happy. Those relationships succeeded or failed based upon the couple's ability to grow together as individuals. Those who had grown apart (or not at all) didn't fare so well.

"Yes." Edward faked a laugh. "You seem surprised."

"I am, a little," she admitted, "but not in a bad way. I've just never known anyone to do that successfully. You two must be meant for one another."

"I suppose. I've never much bought in to the idea that there's a single person for each of us, and if one is lucky enough to find that person, the relationship automatically works. I think we choose our paths, in life and in love."

Bella put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of hand. "What if the path we want isn't available to us? Do we settle?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"No."

Edward ran a hand through his hair, not liking at all the direction the conversation had taken. "It isn't settling unless it's a conscious decision."

Bella noticed the shift in his demeanor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest _you_ were settling. Rose is beautiful and intelligent. She's hardly a consolation prize. I was asking more because of my own relationship..."

"Do you think you're settling?"

"I think I would be if I'd let things with Emmett continue the way they were going. I have to wonder if he loves me the way he claims he does, because I feel if that were actually the case, I would see him for more than a few hours a week. Alice has a theory about commitment. She claims women become ready to settle down when they find the one, but the psychological process is completely different for men. Once a man decides he's tired of being alone, the next remotely suitable candidate he dates _becomes _the one. It's completely unromantic, but it does explain some of life's greater mysteries."

Edward considered Alice's theory in terms of his own life, and decided he didn't think it was applicable. When Rose resigned from her job to complete her MBA, taking their relationship to the next level just made sense. She was spending a few nights per week with him anyway; it made no sense for her to blow through savings on rent. After they'd lived together for two years, the next logical step was to offer her his name and a ring. He didn't want to be one of those guys—the kind that would string a woman along indefinitely without ever making a permanent commitment. Edward had established in his career and his life, and there was no reason to wait.

"Rose isn't simply a means to end for me." It came out much more abruptly than he would have liked.

"I wasn't suggesting she was. I'm not sure I agree with Alice enough to simplify it to the extent that she has, but she presents a decent enough argument that it's hard to completely discount it. Take Emmett and me, for example. If he were truly as in love with me as he claims he is, I wouldn't be a perpetual second fiddle to his job. Yet when I told him I wanted to see other people last night, he was so resistant to the idea. I'm good for him on paper."

"You're good, Bella. Period."

And now Bella was also romantically available. Edward's mind began going all sorts of places it had no place going, until he reminded himself that even if Bella was free, he was not.

"Anyway, I'm certain Emmett cares about you a great deal," Edward said automatically. Truth be told, he hadn't put much thought into Emmett's feelings for Bella. He just couldn't imagine that it would be possible for any man to be with Bella romantically (and sexually) for six months and not fall in love with her. As it was, Edward had known Bella fewer than six days and was still irrationally drawn to her.

"I don't doubt that he does. At the same time, I don't believe for a second that he is crazy in love with me."

"Are you crazy in love with _him_?" he asked.

The waitress arrived to take their orders, and Bella found herself grateful for the reprieve. It wasn't that she felt uncomfortable talking about personal matters with Edward. Though the fact Bella was so attracted to Edward complicated matters somewhat, she felt she could discuss anything with him. She just wasn't sure she knew the answer to his question, and was all too happy to change the subject.

"It looks like the Phils are going to win the pennant after all."

From that moment on, their conversation neither lulled nor returned to their significant others.

Over the next several weeks, Emmett kept his word. He was much more attentive when it came to Bella, and though he did cancel dates from time to time, he was much more considerate about doing so.

Emmett and Bella had not discussed their status since she told him she wanted to see other people, therefore as far as she was concerned, she was free to see whomever she wanted. It just happened that the person she wanted most of all was not free to see her. Yet Bella _did_ see Edward—a few times each week. They went to coffee shops and happy hours. They sat on park benches and in movie theaters. They were careful never to be alone together, yet there was rarely anyone with them.

Emmett was completely aware of the growing closeness between Bella and Edward, even if he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. On one hand, Edward was not competition. He was, after all, engaged to the woman whom Emmett considered to be the personification of idealized feminine beauty. Still, Bella reacted to the mere mention of Edward's name with an excited interest he'd never witnessed her exhibit for any other person. Though Emmett realized that Edward was not actually a threat to his relationship with Bella, he didn't believe Edward's motives were pure.

Emmett was having this exact thought as he brought the most recent market data reports to Rose's office one evening in late November. He sat in one of the chairs opposite her desk as she completed her phone call with Edward, very surprised at what he heard.

"I probably won't be home by then." She held up her index finger and smiled at Emmett, indicating she was just about finished with her phone call. She mouthed "Edward" and rolled her eyes, opening and closing the palm of her hand as if it were a mouth, indicating she'd been trying to get off the phone with him for a while now, but had been unable to do so because he wouldn't stop talking.

"No, I think it would be nice if you invited Bella. Emmett will likely be putting in some very long days between now and the end of the year as well; I imagine she'll start to get lonely, being that we're headed into the holidays and all."

Emmett was careful not to react visually to Rose's obvious encouragement of Edward's friendship with Bella, but he was dying to ask her about it.

"No, that's okay. Look, I'm keeping other people waiting. I'll see you at home. Bye."

Rose hung up the phone and sighed. "I'm sorry. When he doesn't see me at night, he feels compelled to talk at me every chance he gets. It gets more than a little annoying after a while."

"I was trying not to listen..." Emmett began.

"But of course you did anyway," she interjected, flashing Emmett a knowing smile.

"Well, yeah." Emmett handed the reports to Rose, but had no intention of discussing them yet. "I wasn't aware you encouraged your fiancé to spend time alone with my girlfriend."

"Only when it suits my purpose. Why? Does it bother you?"

Emmett folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose that depends on what your purpose is."

"Nothing nefarious. Edward can be a whiny bitch when he's alone. The time he spends with Bella more or less gets me off the hook."

"What are you doing with him, anyway?"

Emmett had wanted to ask Rose that very question for roughly two years now.

"Excuse me?" Rose blinked, and looked at Emmett with what was meant to be genuine surprise. She was not, however, a decent enough actress to fool someone who knew her as well as Emmett did.

"Drop the righteous indignation. Would you care for a survey of some of the words you've used to describe your beloved?"

Rose didn't respond.

"I'll take that as a yes," he continued. "A bit of a pussy. Whiny. Clingy. Incapable of amusing himself. Stifling—and those were just in the past two days. You don't hear me describing Bella that way."

She rolled her eyes. "No, you just hide from her when you're not in the most patient of moods."

"Like most couples, we have communication issues." Emmett shrugged. "You and Edward, however, seem completely incompatible."

"Well, we've been together for five years. I no longer have any illusions about his faults, and his idiosyncrasies that I once found appealing now make me insane. I can't really blame him, though. It's the nature of the cohabitation beast. You'd have some empathy if your relationship modus operandi wasn't short-term serial monogamy."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Fine, I'll spell it out for you. Of all of your love interests, past and present, which relationship lasted the longest?"

"The one I have with Bella."

"Exactly. And you've been together all of seven months. Do you know what that says about you?"

Emmett laughed. "No, but I have a sneaking suspicion you're about to enlighten me."

"It says you like the perks that go along with exclusivity, but you also like to bow out before the honeymoon stage is over. You don't like it when relationships become comfortable enough that your partner no longer feels compelled to be on all the time, and you haven't found someone you care about enough to want something deeper."

"Until now."

Emmett wasn't talking about Bella, but of course, Rose didn't realize this. It didn't matter anyway. Not only was Rose engaged, she was his direct report. Company policy expressly forbade fraternization between executives and their subordinates, rendering void his growing affection for Rose.

"Time will tell."

"Indeed," he said dryly. "Meanwhile, you still haven't answered my question. As the nature of your constant complaints about him seems to indicate, Edward isn't strong enough for you, nor does he sufficiently challenge you. Why are you still with him?"

Rose averted her eyes for a moment as she thought about his question.

"Honestly?" she asked.

"Of course."

"The sex is pretty fucking amazing."

Emmett rested his elbows on Rose's desk and leaned toward her, engaging his mouth before his brain could give input.

"I'm better."

Rose was half-tempted to ask him to prove it.


	7. If Back Stairs You Like

I don't own _Twilight. _

Thanks to wickedcicada.

So, I rarely write author's notes, but both this one and the one at the end are important, so please read them.

I know some of you are uncomfortable with seeing Edward and Bella with other people, but an important part of this story is why their current relationships aren't getting it done for them. That being said, you kind of need to see how they function with their respective partners to understand why they need each other. I trust you will understand that I'm not doing this gratuitously, and everything in this chapter is necessary to where the plot is going.

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__Chapter Seven_

_If Back Stairs You Like _

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"My, aren't we..." Rose trailed her eyes down Emmett's chest. As they lingered on his crotch, she brought her pen to her mouth and rested it against her lower lip. "...cocky."

Emmett shrugged. "If the Magnums fit."

"Such a shame we have a job to do." Rose's disappointment was genuine, even if her regret was not.

Emmett knew she was referring to the market reports, but his mind began to comprise a list of actionable items he could add to Rose's job description—blow jobs, hand jobs, box jobs, lap jobs, tit jobs, foot jobs, ass jobs and rim jobs. He was more than a little surprised when it occurred to him that the last five items were acts he and Bella had yet to introduce into their repertoire, and wondered briefly if they were things Bella would enjoy. Eventually, he decided Bella's feelings on them were a moot point. Emmett would never ask a woman like Bella to indulge him in some of his more perverse longings. She was far too good, too pure, for that. He wouldn't dream of degrading her that way.

Rose, on the other hand, seemed to scream sexual deviance. Emmett was certain if he ever shot his load on to Rose's face, not only would she not mind, she'd beg for more. He knew this, because Rose's personality was identical to his. She'd try anything and everything and probably enjoy it. If Bella was Audrey Hepburn, Rose was Madonna. It made Emmett wonder more than a little about Edward. He never questioned why Edward put a ring on Rose's finger. Rose had men falling all over her constantly and if Emmett were in Edward's position, he'd want to seal the deal as well. Still, Emmett was baffled by Rose's relationship with Edward. It was obvious Rose was the one wearing the pants, so to speak. Moreover, it wouldn't surprise Emmett at all if they were skintight and made of black leather, and Rose had a matching riding crop.

"So, the sex with clingy Eddie is good," he repeated, more to himself than to her.

Rose continued paging through the reports in her hand. "Yes. He's a pianist, you know. He has amazing fingers."

"I'm sure he _does _have amazing fingers." Emmett's tone was mocking. "He probably takes his time and makes slow, sweet love to you."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing."

"It is a bad thing, and it's precisely why I can't imagine you're getting what you want from him."

"And what exactly do you think I want?" she asked without looking up.

"To be swept up, thrown down and fucked hard."

Rose kept her eyes on the papers in her hands, carefully concealing exactly how intrigued she was by his statement. Emmett had more or less nailed what Rose felt was missing from her relationship. Consequently, Rose started wondering what it would be like to nail Emmett. Her body reacted involuntarily to the images in her head, and that made her more than a little uncomfortable.

The confirmation that Emmett wanted to fuck Rose was no surprise in and of itself. After all, men _usually_ wanted to fuck Rose. When Rose had begun to expect this, it was more representative of her realism than her conceit. The fact Emmett was technically her boss notwithstanding, if Rose were to be completely honest with herself, she had to admit they'd done nothing but flirt with each other since the moment they met. Though his lust for her was far from unrequited, Rose has no intention of letting Emmett know this.

The stakes were higher for her. She knew if she permitted this conversation to continue, she ran the risk of losing everything—her reputation, her job, her fiancé. When she met Emmett's gaze, her resolve was unwavering and all inappropriate thoughts had left her mind.

"Yes, but we can't always get what we want, can we?"

Emmett stood up and moved toward the door.

"When you've had a chance to go through those, call me and we'll discuss."

"Yes, boss," Rose answered automatically, grateful temptation was walking away from her.

Emmett was just about out of her office when he stopped and turned on his heel. "Oh, and Rose?"

"Yes?"

"I always get what I want."

He drummed his fingers against the door frame before heading back to his office. He wasn't sure what had just transpired between Rose and him, but he knew a line had been crossed. Though he was ecstatic his attraction to her was apparently mutual, he knew that an affair with an engaged direct report would be a definite career-limiting move. Furthermore, Rose had given him no indication that her feelings went beyond simple concupiscence. If he and Rose were to succumb to their baser desires, he stood to lose far more than she did—his job, his girlfriend, his integrity—all in vain. If Rose had no actual feelings for him, she'd return to Edward, who would assuredly take her back. As much as his cock wanted it, it was just too risky.

He sat at his desk and did what he usually did after thinking inappropriate thoughts about Rose—he called Bella. She picked up immediately, but he could tell from the background noise that she was out.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted her.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

It bothered him that she still assumed something was wrong if he called her from work. Though there was a time in their relationship he would have deserved that, since Bella had told him she wanted to see other people, he had been very good about calling her a few times each day.

"Everything is fine. I just miss you."

"Then you should come see me on your way home from work."

He knew exactly what she was suggesting, and it was just what he needed in order to forget about his exchange with Rose.

"When will you be home?" he asked.

"Oh, I can be home in five minutes. I'm just at Good Dog with Edward."

Unlike Rose, Emmett was not as comfortable with Bella spending all her free time with Edward. He acknowledged that this had very little to do with Bella and everything to do with Edward. Emmett was fully aware that Bella had a bit of a crush on Rose's fiancé. The way Bella smiled at Edward told Emmett everything he needed to know. It wasn't all that long ago Bella looked at Emmett the same way. He knew that because he'd told Bella she could see other people, he _shouldn't _be jealous. Of course, he didn't let that stop him.

"Give me a few minutes to finish up here, and I'll meet you at Good Dog."

"Wow." Bella's surprise was palpable, even over the phone. "Okay. See you in a bit."

Half an hour later, Emmett found Bella and Edward in a booth across from the bar. Emmett slid right in next to Bella, kissing her on the lips and squeezing her thigh. It was not like Emmett to be so physically demonstrative with her in public, but Bella craved passion so desperately she neither questioned Emmett's motives nor noticed the pained look on Edward's face as she returned Emmett's kiss. Bella and Emmett left shortly after his arrival, but Edward lingered for a few minutes and thought about what had just transpired.

Edward knew Emmett's appearance at the bar was not to see Bella as much as it was to stake his claim on her. Edward also knew it wasn't in Emmett's nature to be overly possessive, so his presence that evening could only mean one thing—Emmett perceived Edward as a threat. Having received confirmation that his feelings for Bella were mutual, Edward couldn't contain his excitement, even if he had no idea what his next step (if any) would be.

Emmett and Bella made the short walk to her apartment in record time. The moment they were inside, he pressed her against the door, putting all of the afternoon's sexual frustration into a single kiss. Without removing his lips from Bella's, he pulled at her clothing almost frantically. It wasn't long before she stood before him, naked except for her panties. He scooped her into his arms and carried her the short distance to the sofa, placing her on her feet behind it. He pulled her panties down to her knees and bent her over the back of the sofa, entering her the second his cock was freed from his pants. She was hot and tight around him, and though he knew he should get her off before he came, he couldn't find the will to postpone his climax for the benefit of hers—he'd have plenty of time to make her orgasm later. He came hard and suddenly, grunting in to Bella's ear as his hands squeezed her tits. He withdrew before helping her stand, carefully turning her to face him.

Bella's hair was everywhere, and her make-up was smudged all over her face. Her skin was red, presumably from the combined effort of his five o'clock shadow and his haste to fuck Rose out of his mind. He felt like a complete asshole.

"I'm sorry," he said, gently touching her cheek.

"For what?"

"I was rough, and you deserve better than that from me."

Bella couldn't believe what she was hearing. Though Emmett had been a little forceful, Bella loved every second of it. She found his abandon to be a huge turn-on, and wished he'd let this side of himself out more often.

"Did you hear me complaining?" she asked.

"No, but..."

She cupped his face in hands. "You aren't going to break me. I like passion and getting swept up in the moment. My only complaint is that we don't do this more often."

"Bella, I bent you over a sofa and fucked the shit out of you. That's how men treat whores and one-night stands." And Rose, he added silently. "No decent man would do that to his girlfriend."

"He should if she likes it that way. You never know unless you try." Bella gave him a quick peck on the lips, then began gathering up her clothing.

Emmett thought about Bella's words as he pulled his pants up and refastened his belt. He didn't believe for a second Bella was in to rough sex, nor did he think she'd willingly participate in some of his more esoteric fetishes. She was the kind of woman men married, not the kind they tied to the bed, ball gagged and fucked up the ass. That sort of behavior was reserved for women like Rose. He had the sudden mental image of Rose, naked except for a pair of stilettos, bent at the waist and sucking his cock and wondered how he would ever be able to work beside her and not behave inappropriately.

Across town, Edward came home to an empty apartment. As he undressed and got into bed, it occurred to him just home how much he enjoyed having the place to himself. Obviously, he liked it when Rose was home, but he didn't miss her on the nights she worked late. He wondered what that said about his relationship with Rose—if it indicated an increased level of comfort or a waning of affection. He didn't think about it for too long, though. Sleep claimed him mere seconds after he closed his eyes.

He opened them a few hours later to find Rose naked and on top of him, rubbing her breasts against his chest.

"Not now," he said.

"Oh, but why not?" Rose pursed her lip in her trademark exaggerated pout that was meant to be sexy.

As far as Edward was concerned, it was anything but.

"I need sleep, Rose. If you wanted to make love tonight, you should have come home before three a.m."

"Who said anything about making love?" Rose sat up, pinching her nipples as she ground her hips into his. "I want to fuck," she added in a whisper.

"And I want to sleep."

"Okay, fine," she whined, rolling off him. "You can have your precious sleep, and I'll take care of things myself."

Edward was exhausted enough that neither the quiet hum of Rose's vibrator nor the melodramatic cacophony of her moans could keep him awake.

* * *

Now that wasn't too bad, was it? Are you still with me? If so, I have an announcement.

As most of you know, _My Life to Be_ was commissioned by SassyK as part of the Support Stacie auction. In November, the Fandom Gives Back will be hosting another auction, this one to benefit Alex's Lemonade Stand.

This cause is particularly close to my heart, as childhood cancers have touched me deeply. By the time I was thirteen years old, I'd watched one close friend beat leukemia and another perish from lymphoma.

Consequently, I will be donating three one-shots and two 50k word multi-chaptered fics to the auction. My only hard limits are slash and real person fic. What does this mean? Well, if you bid and win, I will write whatever you want--a sequel to _Art After 5_, a continuance of_ An Error in Concupiscence,_ or even something completely original. The possibilities are endless.

In addition to the aforementioned stories, I'm also donating guided tour of the Philadelphia Museum of Art focusing on the pieces that were featured in Art After 5 followed by drinks at McGillan's to the highest bidder (I'll pick up the tab for museum admission and one round of drinks for the winning bidder and one guest. For this item, you must be twenty-one years or older to bid.)

I leave you with the words of Margaret Meade -

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

This is a wonderful opportunity for us to make a difference in the world, one smutty word at a time.


	8. If Love Affairs You Like

I don't own _Twilight._

Thanks to wickedcicada.

_

* * *

__Chapter Eight_

_If Love Affairs You Like_

_

* * *

  
_

Much to Emmett's surprise, he and Rose did manage to keep things strictly professional over the next few weeks. This was aided greatly by the fact he made a point never to be alone with her after hours, and he avoided any social outings that would involve alcohol until the night of the company Christmas party. As he rode the elevator to Bella's apartment, he reminded himself that despite the fact the party was black tie, open bar, and being held at the Bellevue, it might as well be a work day. Too many important people would be in attendance for him to view the evening any other way.

He explained this to Bella as the town car turned onto Broad Street.

"Don't worry." She laughed humorlessly. "I won't embarrass you."

"Oh, Bella baby, no." He squeezed her hand. "That's not what I mean. I just want you to understand that this is an obligation more than anything else, and that I will be required to make the rounds. As much as I wish I could spend all evening dancing and flirting with you, it probably won't happen."

"I expected as much. It's okay. I'm more than capable of amusing myself. Besides, I'm sure Edward will keep me company while you and Rose do your thing."

Emmett decided to ignore Bella's comment about Edward, as he was certain she did not mean it maliciously. He leaned into Bella and kissed her quickly on the lips. "I don't deserve you."

After their car pulled up in front of the hotel, Emmett carefully helped Bella out of the back seat. She stood by his side with perfect posture, dutifully playing the role of over-educated arm candy. When the smile painted on her face began to hurt, she tugged on his sleeve and whispered that she needed a cigarette. He nodded and she took her leave, grateful to have a few moments to relax her shoulders and her facial muscles.

Edward watched her make her way to the stairs, and after a suitable break in his conversation with one of Rose's colleagues, followed Bella outside. For several moments, he stood inside the glass doors and stared at the vision before him. Bella's dark hair was piled on top of her head in loose curls that fell in tendrils onto her shoulders, and her make-up could only be described as sultry. The midnight blue silk of her dress floated around her body in a sudden burst of cold winter air, and she pulled her black pashmina more tightly around her shoulders.

Edward was selfish enough to want to pull the cashmere wrap from her shoulders so he could see what was beneath it up close, knowing the bodice of her gown was both tight and low-cut. As he walked through the door and began to close the distance between them, he saw her lower lip quiver. Her shivering ignited his chivalry, forcing the lasciviousness that was previously at the forefront of his mind to simmer beneath the surface. He removed his tuxedo jacket and placed it over her shoulders, eliciting from Bella a smile that was genuine even as she maintained her ruse.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Are you following me?" she teased.

"Hardly. I just wanted to check up on you, and when I couldn't find you inside, it occurred to me you might be out here wasting perfectly good carcinogens," he explained with a smirk.

Bella may have been fake-smoking, but her laughter was real. "Am I that predictable?"

"Actually, I'm kind of surprised. Given the presence of so many of their clients, I would think Emmett and his team would be on their best behavior."

"Oh, they are." Bella flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette. "It just gets...stifling after a while. I don't do well having to be on all the time, if that makes sense. I can stand there smiling and nodding; I can even laugh at appropriate moments and make polite conversation with other wives and girlfriends. I know my sole purpose for being here is to help Emmett schmooze, but it's not something that's a part of my natural skill set. It's exhausting, and I wanted a moment to be myself."

"Then you should actually _be_ yourself."

"That's what I'm doing," she insisted.

"Then why do I get the feeling you're fighting every natural instinct you have?" Edward took the cigarette out of her hand and deposited it in the smokers' outpost. "No one can see us out here, there's no need to pretend."

Bella wanted to contradict him. Indeed, the person whose opinion mattered to her most of all _could_ see her; he was looking right at her. Furthermore, Bella doubted Edward wanted her to succumb to the natural instincts she had in his presence, which at the moment were telling her to touch his hair and press her body against his. Fake-smoking was the least of her deceptions.

"You make it sound as if you've never maintained a charade because it made other aspects of your life easier for you."

"I haven't," he insisted.

"Right. I find that hard to believe."

Edward thought about what Bella was suggesting. The only ruse in which he'd participated lately was the one in which he pretended he wasn't developing romantic feelings for Bella. If the Herculean effort it took him to resist touching her was any indication, his deception did nothing to make things easier for him. Quite the contrary—he could think of one _thing_ that was getting harder by the minute.

"It's true," he insisted. "You on the other hand...well, I have a hard time believing smoking is the only thing you fake."

"Try me."

"We'll start with the basics." A loose tendril of her hair drew his focus, and he decided where he wanted to begin. "Your hair color?"

"Real," she confirmed.

He'd suspected as much. "Ah. The drapes match the carpet."

"Just so you know, there is no carpet."

"Really?" Edward asked, his interest more than a little piqued. He'd spent more time than he cared to acknowledge picturing the junction of Bella's thighs. This tidbit of information could prove quite helpful in ensuring the accuracy of his wank fantasies.

Bella's sheepish smile answered his question.

"Wow," he muttered. "Wait, where was I?'

"You're easily distracted. Have you ever spoken to your health care provider about the possibility you have ADD? This isn't the first time you've been unable to follow a simple conversation."

Edward snorted. "Right. Never mind the fact you're being a huge tease is distracting to me. So, the hair color is real." His eyes trailed from her face to the lapels of his jacket, which Bella was holding together over her chest. Still staring at where her breasts _would_ be if they weren't concealed by his jacket, he raised an eyebrow.

"Stop it." She rolled her eyes. "They're real, too."

"Thank you, Jesus." Edward folded his hands as if he was in prayer, and Bella smacked him lightly on him shoulder.

"You can be such a douche."

"Ouch," he whined, pretending to wince in pain.

Bella smacked him again. "You have a fiancée, you know. Go speculate on the silicone content of her breasts."

"Well, you see, I wouldn't have to speculate on that, would I? I know she's been..." Edward pretended to cough. "...surgically enhanced."

Bella was dumbfounded. "No way."

"Way. She had them done between undergrad and B school. We weren't together at the time, so I don't feel as though I have a right to complain, but I kind of liked them better before."

When Edward realized he was discussing Rose's tits with Bella, he felt bad, but not for the reasons he should have. He didn't care that he'd just revealed something personal about Rose, even though he was completely aware he had no right to do so. He was more upset by the precious time he'd wasted doing so, which he could have used to discover more about Bella. He returned to his list.

"The sex kitten lip bite?"

"Real. It's a bad habit I've had my whole life. I do it whenever I'm nervous or feeling too exposed." She looked at him perplexedly. "You actually think it's sexy?"

"Very much so." Edward wasn't at all ashamed to admit this.

"Huh. Emmett hates it."

"Fuck Emmett," Edward said without thinking.

The air between them was charged with an electricity that excited Bella but also made her extremely uncomfortable.

"I do fuck Emmett." She giggled nervously. "Regularly, in fact."

Bella's statement was meant to serve as a reminder to herself as well as a news flash to Edward. Though her face was flushed and her panties were wet from an inappropriate conversation with the personification of her impossible dream, she wasn't one of those pathetic women who placed their lives on hold while they mooned over a man they knew they would never have. Bella had a man—and quite a good one at that—in her life and in her. Lately, he'd even become attentive. There was no good reason for her to be flirting with Edward.

Evoking the memory of her boyfriend worked, to a point. She'd successfully managed to slow her racing heart, until Edward took a step toward her. He knew the question he was about to ask was inappropriate, but didn't care. It was something he'd wanted to know since the moment Bella admitted she fake-smoked.

When he found his voice, it was breathy even for a whisper.

"Your orgasms?"

Bella felt the color drain from her cheeks. "What about them?"

"Fake or real?"

Bella bit her lower lip and looked over at the door, carefully avoiding eye contact with Edward.

As far as Edward was concerned, she'd just answered his question.

* * *

Information about the author auction can be found at www (dot) thefandomgivesback (dot) com


	9. Will This Dream of Mine Fade

I don't own _Twilight_.

Thanks to wickedcicada.

* * *

_Chapter Nine_

_Or Will This Dream of Mine Fade out of Sight?  
_

* * *

In that single moment, Edward wanted so many things. He wanted to apologize to Bella for making her feel uncomfortable, for crossing a line with his question. He wanted to fess up—to finally be honest with Bella about his feelings for her, feelings which were far from honorable and rapidly increasing in intensity. He wanted to see her smile, not a fake smile from a fake smoker, but a genuine one that lit her entire face. Most of all, he wanted to pull her into his arms and into his bed and study the responses her body would have to _his_ touch, stopping only once he was certain that the climaxes he'd given her were as natural and as real as the shining sable locks atop her head.

He could justify his inaction a multitude of ways: he respected Bella too much to compromise her that way, that he could never do that to Rose, that this night was not the time. Any and all of those reasons would be sufficient enough to cause him to keep things between Bella and him exactly as they were—pseudo-platonic. None of them was the real reason Edward found his feet frozen in place, unable to make a move toward her.

Cowardice was paralyzing, so instead of declaring himself, Edward stated the obvious.

"I've made you uncomfortable."

Bella released her lower lip from between her teeth and shrugged.

"Why?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

Bella responded with an almost inaudible sigh.

They stood in silence for such a long time that Edward was startled when Bella finally spoke. "Why am I uncomfortable, or why do I fake it?"

"Both."

"You can't really expect me to answer that. Our friendship notwithstanding, I feel as though I'm betraying Emmett simply by having this conversation with you."

"You shouldn't; _you're_ free to see other people. You told me this yourself."

"Seeing other people and badmouthing him to a mutual acquaintance are very different things. Don't think for a second I'm not completely cognizant of precisely how much you are enjoying this newfound insight into my relationship with Emmett. I saw that smile on your face. Do you know what it told me?"

Edward shook his head.

"It confirmed my suspicion that you didn't ask the original question because you like _me; _rather, you asked the question because you _dislike_ Emmett."

Edward couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Bella, that's not it."

"Really? Are you sure? Because it seems to me that you and Emmett are in constant competition, and Rose is the ultimate prize. We all know the extent to which sexual prowess defines male self-worth, and how knowing one's enemy lacks that prowess can be the ultimate weapon. I just can't believe I've been so stupid. In my desperation for someone—anyone—unbiased in whom I could confide, I just unknowingly handed you more ammunition."

"Ammunition?" Edward repeated, dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?"

"For the next time. You know, when Rose heads into the office on a Saturday or after a rushed dinner out with you. If she says something thoughtless or hurtful before heading off to see Emmett under the guise of work, which just so you know, I don't believe for a second they are truly just working during all the time they spend together, now you have the ultimate comeback."

"I would never betray you like that," Edward insisted.

"Right. Just like I'm sure you told Rose you wouldn't advertise the fact she'd had some work done."

Edward wanted to tell Bella that she had it completely wrong, that he wouldn't do that to _her_, not now, not ever, because he was far more protective of her than he'd ever been of Rose. He didn't, though. He knew because of the circumstances under which they met, because while he stood on the sidewalk having an inappropriate conversation with Bella another woman was upstairs wearing his ring, Bella had no reason to believe he meant a word he said. He remained silent because he knew he caused this with his own inappropriate conduct. He'd behaved appallingly and for all Bella knew, he always did. That if Bella were to take his actions at face value, then this—skulking away from his fiancée so that he could have an inappropriate conversation with another woman—was Edward's normal. Until that moment, he hadn't thought it was possible to hate himself so much.

Bella took off Edward's jacket and held it out to him. "Here."

"You'll freeze," he said, holding up his hand in a gesture meant to convince Bella to keep the jacket. She thrust it toward him a second time, and he put it on in resignation.

"I'll be fine. I never would have accepted it in the first place had I known..." Bella stopped speaking and shook her head.

"What?"

"Had I known the costs associated with doing so."

Edward was painfully aware of the fact Bella was not referring to his tuxedo jacket and had no idea how their playful banter had suddenly turned so ugly.

He ran his fingers through his hair, groaning in frustration. "You tell me what to do, Bella. Tell me what it will take for you to believe I care about you, that I'm doing this for you, that you are the person I want and need, and that I would never intentionally hurt you. That I crossed a line just now, yes, but it wasn't because this is a game to me. I'm not manipulating you to teach Rose a lesson. What will it take to prove that to you?"

Bella didn't believe him for an instant. She felt naïve and ashamed, and her response was more the manifestation of these emotions than her heart's plaintive cry for what it truly wanted.

"You can't have it both ways, Edward."

"I'm not trying to."

"That's bullshit, and you know it." She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back on her heels. "Okay, fine. Let's say for the sake of argument, you don't want it all. What _do_ you want?"

As tempting as it was and as easy as it would be to do so, Edward couldn't bring himself to lie to Bella.

"I want _you_," he whispered.

His quiet confession knocked the air out of Bella's lungs with such intensity she may as well have been punched in the chest. Bella had dreamed of Edward saying these words to her more times than she could count. In her fantasies, they filled her with joy, fulfillment, passion and the promise of a tomorrow too blissful to imagine.

The reality left her feeling empty and angry.

She glared at Edward, her face void of any expression. "I don't believe you."

"Then what will it take? What do I have to do to convince you what I feel for you is real?"

Bella didn't have to think about her answer, and when she spoke, her voice was steady and emotionless. She knew exactly what Edward needed to do to prove himself to her; she just didn't think for a second he would actually do it.

"Leave Rose."

Edward stared at Bella, trying to wrap his mind around her request.

"Leave Rose," she repeated. "Or leave me the hell alone."

"I can't leave you alone," he responded automatically.

"I suppose that leaves us at a standstill, doesn't it? Regardless of what you can or can't do, I can't be a party to emotional infidelity and it's become abundantly clear to me that's where our friendship is headed. I feel badly enough I let things get as far as they have between us. I've just been so lonely, and felt so isolated that I briefly lost sight of who I am. You said there was no reason to pretend with you. Well, this..." She wagged her index finger between the two of them. "...isn't me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really should find Emmett. Good-bye, Edward." In a cloud of dark blue silk chiffon, Bella disappeared inside the hotel.

Edward remained on the sidewalk for several minutes, his eyes clenched, mentally replaying their conversation. The phrase "emotional infidelity" stung more each time it entered his mind. Still, he went over every detail of their conversation, again and again, in the hope he could convince himself that Bella was simply speaking out of anger, and that he had not been unfaithful to Rose in any sense of the word. It was only after he accepted the idea that he'd failed in almost every way a man could that he found his way back to his fiancée.

"There you are," Rose said when Edward reappeared at her side. "I was about to send out a search party."

"No need. I just went outside for some air."

"Is _that_ what they're calling it these days?" Rose's voice was heavy with accusation.

Edward took Rose's hand and pressed his cheek against hers, whispering quietly in her ear, "Do you really want to have this conversation now? Bear in mind; you are hardly an innocent party."

Keeping with his ruse, Edward kissed Rose's cheek. He had no way of knowing that from across the room, Bella witnessed this small display of what seemed like affection and marveled at how a simple, chaste gesture could tell two women no less than fifty feet away from one another exactly where they stood.

Hating who she had become, Bella made a silent vow to forget Edward Cullen.

"You seem a million miles away."

Bella felt Emmett's hands on her upper arms, and gave him a small smile.

"I'm sorry. Maybe it's the combination of the champagne and my inability to breathe in this dress, but everything tonight almost seems surreal."

Her statement was completely true, just not in the way Emmett thought it was.

"You'll feel better when I get you home and strip you out of it," he said suggestively.

"Undoubtedly."

Emmett leaned down and placed a quick kiss on Bella's forehead. "You were magnificent tonight. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?"

"You don't have to lay it on that thick, you know," she teased. "When we get back to my apartment, I'll let you come inside regardless."

He laughed at her double entendre, even if he was slightly annoyed at her inability to take a compliment. "I didn't have an ulterior motive. But if that's the offer on the table, how about a quick spin around the dance floor and then we get out of here?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all night."

Later that night, the comfort Bella felt in Emmett's arms was genuine, even if the ecstasy was not.


	10. From This Moment On

I don't own _Twilight_.

Thanks to wickedcicada who wrote a lovely review of My Life to Be for the Fictionators. You can read it at www (dot) fictionators (dot) com

This chapter is exactly the length it needs to be. It's quite dense, and a lot happens.

* * *

_Chapter Ten_

_From This Moment On_

* * *

Through the duration of the party, Edward replayed the conversation he'd had outside with Bella over and over in his mind. Though the assumptions she'd made about his character were not at all indicative of the man he believed himself to be, he couldn't fault her for judging him so harshly. Edward was painfully aware that his behavior over the past several weeks was inappropriate—bordering on immoral—and that all parties involved (including his betrothed) deserved better from him.

Edward was anxious to go home. There was a serious discussion that needed to take place between he and Rose, and though he wasn't looking forward to it, he was anxious to be done with it. He wasn't planning on ending his engagement to Rose because Bella gave him an ultimatum; the conversation he'd had with Bella earlier that evening had been the impetus for his decision. As Bella stood before him—flushed and earnest, clutching his jacket around her shoulders—Edward realized he got more pleasure from simply being in Bella's company than he did from actually being in Rose. He knew the timing was bad, but also acknowledged that as far as the demise of a long-term relationship was concerned, there was no such thing as a good time to do it. He might as well just get it over with.

His decision made, Edward turned his attention to his soon-to-be-ex fiancèe. For the first time in recent memory, he found himself carefully studying the statuesque blond to whom he had pledged his troth. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight chignon at the nape of her neck, showcasing the bones in her long neck and slim shoulders. In a black velvet evening gown with deep red lips, she evoked the classic beauty of a Hitchcock heroine. Her posture was perfect and her manners flawless, and even after all these years, Edward couldn't help but be impressed by her. After all, there was a great deal Rose had accomplished.

Though the glass ceiling was beginning to become a thing of the past, Edward wouldn't deny that women in business had a distinct disadvantage to their male counterparts. He'd observed this himself, on multiple occasions, and it only intensified when the female in question was attractive. Regardless of education or professional achievements, women like Rose were often taken about as seriously as Barbie dolls, and Rose was not an exception.

If Rose had been manufactured by Mattel, she would be marketed as MBA Barbie (Wharton degree and MENSA membership card included, pants suit and sensible heels optional). Take her out of the box and remove her accessories, she was no different from Malibu Barbie. She would still be objectified as nothing more than a body designed to be dressed, undressed and posed according to the capricious whims of the infantile. Though the individuals who wanted to play with Rose were far more likely to shop at Brooks Brothers than Gymboree, the end result was the same. Despite her impressive resume and numerous professional accomplishments, Rose constantly had to prove herself capable.

In spite of this, Rose was incredibly successful. Her looks closed some doors for her and opened others, but her mind made most of this irrelevant. She could out man the men with whom she worked, and as a result, she was significantly harder (and colder) than the naturally pretty and somewhat shy scholarship student who had intrigued Edward so greatly during their senior year at Cornell. Edward knew underneath Rose's intense drive to succeed, that girl—the quiet one with the mousy brown hair who was determined to rise above her humble beginnings—was in there somewhere.

This is why despite more recent events, Edward had nothing but respect, admiration and genuine affection for Rose. He was proud of everything she had accomplished, even if he felt he no longer knew her. With his eyes remained fixed on her, he tried to picture his future. Ever since he lost his parents, Edward had wanted a family of his own with a desperation he could not articulate. Try as he may, he no longer saw this as something he could have with Rose.

For this, he blamed Bella. Edward did not cling to the romantic idea that because he was committed to one woman, he would never feel sexually or emotionally attracted to another. To him, monogamy meant wanting one's partner _more_ than anyone else, not exclusively. Still, he felt romantic relationships should have a component of intense passion and bona fide sexual need. He no longer felt either of these things for Rose. In the car ride home from the party, Edward decided to end his engagement not because of the longing he felt for Bella, but because of the absence of such longing for Rose.

Edward could tell from Rose's body language she wanted to fight with him, but he was determined not to give her the satisfaction. Regardless of how they felt now, he did not wish for their five-year relationship to be reduced to a screaming match. He was better than that; _Rose_ was better than that. Edward _could _do this civilly, provided Rose kept her temper in check. She was known to hit below the belt, and Edward knew that if she did so that evening—if she attacked his character or even worse, Bella's—all bets were off.

They made their way home in relative silence. Rose pushed her way ahead of Edward when they arrived in front of their building, rushing inside with the speed of a track star as he trailed behind her. Consequently, Edward was not yet completely inside their apartment when Hurricane Rose made landfall.

"What the fuck was that about?" she seethed.

Without meeting her gaze, he brushed past her and went to the kitchen, where he poured himself three fingers of whiskey. _Liquid courage_, he thought to himself as he took a sip. When he looked up from his glass, Rose was standing in front of him in nothing but a strapless bra and Spanx, fuming.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, trying to gauge the extent of her anger.

"I don't know _darling_, perhaps you could tell me."

Rose sneered her endearment as if it were an obscenity, and ostensibly it was. Traditionally, this was how she and Edward fought—with superficial politeness and restraint, using the same words more functional couples uttered to express affection as alliterated euphemisms for what they were really thinking.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Edward said, shrugging.

"Then allow me to enlighten you." Rose dropped her voice an octave, mimicking Edward's tone from earlier that evening. "'You are hardly an innocent party.' Care to fill me in on what you meant and why you felt making a statement such as that was appropriate at my company Christmas party?"

Rose knew exactly what Edward meant; he was accusing her of having an affair with Emmett. Though she wouldn't deny her attraction to Emmett, she found it incredibly insulting that Edward would think she would ever act on it. Her relationship status notwithstanding, she had enough stacked against her at work without being the whore who slept her way to the top. If Edward thought so little of her, the least he could do was tell her directly and to her face.

Edward didn't want to take the bait, but ultimately couldn't resist. He placed the back of his hand against Rose's forehead. "Are you certain you're not ill, love?"

"I feel fine, and you know it," she snapped, smacking him away. "Stop trying to change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject. You're clearly not yourself this evening. Usually, when you dish it out, you can take it. You started this when you implied I'd behaved inappropriately with Bella. Don't insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise."

"Oh, I can take it."

"Bella thinks you and Emmett are having an affair."

Rose rolled her eyes, not at Edward's accusation, but at how he'd come to his erroneous conclusion. "Bella would."

"That's not an answer."

"You're right, it isn't. I'm not going to dignify your _accusation_—because let's be real here, it was not a question—with a response."

"It doesn't matter, anyway. I'm done."

Edward was referring to his relationship with Rose. Of course, Rose didn't realize this.

"Good. You won't win anyway." Rose stormed off to the bathroom, leaving Edward to contemplate her statement.

For the first time that evening, Edward thought Rose was completely right. He made his way to his bedroom and pulled a suitcase out of his closet. There no sense in prolonging the inevitable. Even though he owned the apartment, he was willing to go to a hotel for a few days while he worked out the logistics of a split with Rose. He changed out of his tuxedo and packed enough clothing to get him through the week. When he was certain he had everything he needed, he sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Rose to emerge from the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, he was out of patience. He walked to the bathroom and tapped on the door.

There was no answer.

"Rose, are you all right?"

Hearing nothing, he opened the door slowly. Rose was sitting on the toilet in just her strapless bra, clutching her abdomen. He knew something was wrong, but the shock he felt at the sight before him paralyzed him. Not knowing what else to do, he stupidly repeated himself.

"Are you all right?"

"I think I need to go to the hospital," Rose whispered. "I'm bleeding."

* * *

Thank you everyone for the birthday wishes. They were wonderful. The message boards for The Fandom Gives Back are up. You can get all information you need to bid at the auction at www (dot) thefandomgivesback (dot) com. Again, proceeds benefit Alex's Lemonade Stand.

The next chapter will be up as soon as possible, but please keep in mind that I have other obligations besides writing. As much as I would like to ignore them at times, I can't. Thank you for reading and sticking with me. Things are about to explode.


	11. Like the Moon Growing Dim

I don't own _Twilight_.

I will be the guest author on November 16 at Smut Monday on Twilighted. It will be an _Art After 5 _oneshot taking place well after the epilogue. You may want to check it out for some fluffy, sexy non-angsty goodness.

Thanks to wickedcicada, who beta'd this in a hurry so you wouldn't be left with a cliffhanger for too long. She writes an awesome story called _Recapitulation_. The link is in my favorites.

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_Chapter Eleven_

_Like the Moon Growing Dim on the Rim of the Hill_

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Rosalie Lillian Hale had never been an overly emotional person. Feelings were yet another luxury she learned very early in life that she could do without. Some girls had pretty clothing and parents who doted on them. Those were the girls more suited to expressing themselves, and Rose was almost positive _their_ parents took the time to listen. After all, time was the ultimate indulgence. Feelings were cheap enough that everyone had them. Parents who took the time the listen to their children were a precious commodity, a fact of which Rose was painfully aware long before she could even write her own name.

When Rose saw Edward's packed suitcase, gut-wrenching physical pain notwithstanding, she knew what it meant. She wished she could say she was surprised Edward was leaving her, but she wasn't. After all, that was what men did; they left. Rose learned this at twelve years old, when her father walked out, leaving Rose's mother with four children.

Rose was neither surprised, nor was she particularly upset. Her father was rarely around as it was. When Rose asked her mother where he was, Rose's mother replied simply that he was working. Though Rose did not pretend to understand economics, she knew that as a factory worker, her father was compensated based on the hours that he worked. If he were truly working double shifts, Rose's mother wouldn't be waiting tables at the local Denny's to make ends meet, nor would their electricity be turned off more frequently than it was on. What did surprise Rose was just how limited the prospects were for a single mother of four with no skills, no education and no child support.

Rose's mother claimed she was able to support her family when she parlayed her experience waiting tables into a job as a server at a private club. As it turned out, the privacy at said establishment was dubious at best, and claiming she was still a waitress wasn't the most well-thought-out ruse. It didn't take long for Rose to figure out her mother was a stripper, and that a lot more than dancing took place in the champagne room.

Rochester wasn't a particularly large city, and Rose was at an age where her peers were obsessed with all things sexual. Less than four months after her father left, things began to change for Rose at school. In a matter of days, she went from being practically invisible to the preferred target of both overt bullying and whispered rumors. She could live with the fact that the girls she'd previously called her friends would no longer be seen with her, but the morning she arrived at school to find the word "whore" written on her locker in permanent marker pushed her over the edge. Locked in a bathroom stall, Rose permitted herself a luxury she'd thought she could never afford—tears.

When there was nothing left, she rose to her feet and washed her face. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she vowed that she would never be like her mother. She would never believe a man's promises of forever, regardless of how sincere they seemed at the time, nor would she ever find herself in a situation where she needed to whore herself out to feed her children. She didn't care what she had to do or whom she had to fuck to make it happen, but she would get an education that would enable her to earn a more-than-comfortable living. She wasn't above doing anything her mother did, as long the end justified the means. Specifically, that regardless of her relationship status, she would be able to support herself and whatever children she had—and that no one would ever call her daughter a whore because of her own poor decisions. The children she'd not yet had became her biggest motivation to succeed, and over the course of the next twenty years, this had not changed.

As Rose watched Edward run around their apartment, grabbing her sweats, underwear and a maxi pad, she stayed in their bedroom fixated on two thoughts. If the excruciating pain in her abdomen was any indication, she had to be dying. Secondly, Edward was taking care of her right now not because he wanted to, but because he felt he should. Despite all of her hard work and meticulous planning, Rose still found herself dependent on a man. If tears were something of which she was still capable, she would have shed some at that moment.

An hour later, as Edward stood in the waiting room of Pennsylvania Hospital, he couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more helpless. This feeling only partially abated when his uncle arrived to offer moral support and additional medical advice, if any was needed.

Though Edward bore his last name, Dr. Carlisle Cullen was not related to Edward by blood nor was he technically old enough to be his father. After the death of his parents, Edward was sent to live with his mother's younger sister, Esme, who at twenty-two years old put her own aspirations on hold to parent a child she'd neither birthed nor asked for. A chronic over-thinker even then, Edward felt as though he was intruding even though his aunt and uncle assured him repeatedly that he was not. It was for this reason alone he asked to attend boarding school, hoping that his absence would give Carlisle and Esme their lives back.

Carlisle and Esme were painfully aware that they were not Edward's biological parents. They also knew that Edward thought they viewed him as an imposition, and tried on many occasions to convince him otherwise, though the emotional distance Edward kept between his self and his adopted parents made it difficult for them to do so. For that reason, the second Carlisle saw Edward's cell number on his caller ID, he knew something was wrong. He also knew he would go to Edward because that was what family did. Regardless of what Edward perceived their relationship to be, as far as Carlisle was concerned, Edward was his son.

Still, moments like these were awkward. Carlisle wanted to embrace Edward, but after all these years he still was uncertain that it would be welcome. Instead, he stood at his side and gave him a couple of firm pats on the back.

"Do you know anything yet?" Carlisle asked.

"Apparently, Rose was pregnant and the embryo implanted in her cervix. Is that even possible?"

Carlisle was not an OB/GYN, but during the years he spent working in the emergency room as a general surgeon, he'd seen just about everything.

"Yes, though it's not all that common. I take it she's in surgery now?"

Edward nodded. "There's no way they can save the baby, and they aren't even sure if they can save her uterus. She's going to be devastated."

Carlisle couldn't help but notice the calm detachment with which Edward spoke. It made him wonder if Edward had processed any of what was going on.

"I wasn't aware you were trying to get pregnant."

"We weren't."

"How are you holding up?"

Carlisle knew what Edward was sure to be feeling all too well—he and Esme tried unsuccessfully for years to have a child of their own. Finally, after watching his wife endure six miscarriages with no reason to believe that a seventh pregnancy would result in a live birth, Carlisle convinced Esme that he didn't need biological offspring to feel like a father and that he couldn't love her nephew more had he begotten him himself.

"It's not like what you and Aunt Esme went through."

"Of course it is."

"No, it isn't. You planned each pregnancy, and when they didn't work out, had to deal with your hopes being crushed. I was told about this pregnancy and the fact it wasn't viable in the same sentence. Crying over the baby seems self-indulgent with Rose in surgery, knowing that had I gotten her here ten minutes later she would have bled out. I almost didn't bring her..."

"Edward, you can't blame yourself..."

Edward sank into one of the vinyl upholstered armchairs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't _not _blame myself. I didn't notice she was in pain because we were fighting. I was actually going to end it tonight—not the pregnancy, I mean, obviously I didn't know about that, but our relationship. I won't now. I mean, I can't." He buried his head in his hands. "I can't leave her, but I don't know how I'll be able to stay with her."

Carlisle sat next to Edward and thought very carefully about what to say. "You've been having problems?"

"No." Edward laughed bitterly. "That's the crazy thing. I just feel like I no longer know her. What's worse is that I'm not sure I want to get to know her. I feel like the Rose I fell in love with no longer exists. Meanwhile, the Rose I was about to break up with was pregnant. I packed my bag, and would have walked out on a woman who was carrying my child. What kind of man does that make me?"

"One who didn't know."

"Except I know _now_, and I hate myself. Presumably, it was my baby, right? I mean, with the exception of a handful of baseless rumors, I have no reason to believe she was unfaithful. I've wanted nothing more than a family of my own for as long as I can remember, and yet I can't bring myself to mourn the one that will never be. And though I'm worried about Rose and I want to be by her side as she recovers and help her in any way that I can, part of me thinks if I do that, we'll settle back into the way things were."

"And you don't want that..."

"No." He clenched his eyes shut. "I just don't see how either of us will ever be happy together."

"You don't have to figure this out..."

Carlisle stopped talking when he saw a man he assumed was Rose's doctor walking toward them.

"Is there an update?" Edward asked, leaping to his feet.

As the doctor explained Rose's condition, Edward hung on his every word. Rose lost a lot of blood, but ultimately she was going to be okay. As the doctor explained what recovering from a hysterectomy entailed, Edward felt a sharp pain in his chest that made it difficult for him to breathe. There was no doubt in Edward's mind that Rose would _never_ recover from this.

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_The Fandom Gives Back author auction to support Alex's Lemonade Stand begins November 15. Check out www (dot) thefandomgivesback (dot) com for more details. Many authors have donated some wonderful items._


	12. To Disperse the Joys We Had Tasted

I don't own _Twilight._

Thanks to wickedcicada.

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_Chapter Twelve_

_Clouds Came Along to Disperse the Joys We Had Tasted_

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When Rose opened her eyes in the recovery room, her first thought was that she was dead. Not only was her pain gone, but she had a strange sensation that she was floating. As her vision came into focus, she recognized that the man holding her hand wasn't Jesus but Edward, a realization that left Rose with far more questions than answers. Then it slowly came back to her—the party, their argument, Edward's packed suitcase and the revelation that a baby she didn't know she was carrying (and likely the only one that she ever would) was causing her to hemorrhage, placing her life and her ability to bear children at risk. Though hospitals were some people's idea of hell, Edward's presence assured her that she was, indeed, alive. That being established, there was one more thing she needed to know.

"Am I..." Rose swallowed, causing a sharp pain in her throat that surprised her and made her wonder how she could feel anything at all with all the morphine that was being pumped into her veins. "I mean, can I?"

Edward's eyes brimmed with tears, and Rose had her answer.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"For what? There's nothing _you_ need to apologize for, is there?" she asked, silently willing him to inform her of what his plans had been the previous evening.

He said nothing, and Rose decided not to press him until she had time to process everything.

"Have you called my mother?"

Edward shook his head, and Rose slowly exhaled.

"Good. I'd prefer that you didn't."

"I figured as much."

Rose nodded. "Thank you." She closed her eyes and sighed. "Who else knows I'm here?"

"Carlisle and Esme."

Rose didn't begrudge Edward emotional support. In times of crisis, everyone wanted to surround themselves with people whom they knew would do everything they could to lighten their loved ones burdens. Even with a morphine drip, Rose could not escape the irony that Edward doubted Carlisle's love for him almost as much as Rose doubted Edward's love for her. In this way, she and Edward were very similar. In times of crisis, both would choose reliable comfort over possibly dubious affection. It suddenly occurred to Rose that perhaps for the first time in her life, there was someone who would offer her both.

"I want you to call Emmett."

Edward felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. "You can't be thinking about work right now..."

"I'm not," Rose snapped, her tone making it clear that she wanted no further discourse on the issue. She also wanted Edward to leave her alone, but wasn't sure how to go about achieving this. Thankfully, her doctor arrived to discuss her prognosis, and that was a conversation she preferred to have without an audience.

Despite the fact it was frigid, Edward went outside to call Emmett. Though he knew Rose asked him to make the phone call, he had no idea which details Rose expected him to reveal. Thankfully, Emmett did not answer and Edward was able to leave a voice message during which he simply explained that Rose was recovering from emergency surgery and was expected to remain the in hospital for the next four or five days. He provided Emmett with Rose's contact information and left it at that.

Edward briefly toyed with the idea of calling Bella. Their row of the previous evening notwithstanding, it was her company he craved most of all. Bella's moral compass had proven to be about as precise as NASA's GPS. She would know what to do; she always did. Still, Edward wouldn't be the first to initiate contact. Bella was probably still livid with him—and rightfully so. He went inside to the elevator and wondered how in the past twenty-four hours his entire life had turned to shit. The doors closed halfway before opening again, and a brunette he'd know anywhere came whizzing past him, typing away on her iPhone.

"Thank you for holding the elevator," Bella said without looking up. "Four, please."

Edward pushed the button and turned to face her. "What are doing you here?"

The familiarity of his voice startled her; Edward was the last person she'd expected to see.

"I work here."

Well, that would explain her white lab coat and the stethoscope around her neck even if it was contradictory to what she'd previously told him.

Shocked she hadn't immediately started beating him with her laptop bag, he decided to operate on the assumption that Bella no longer wanted to rip his testicles off and shove them down his throat. Besides, inane chatter was a welcome diversion.

"I thought you were in private practice."

"I am."

"I don't understand."

The doors opened, and Bella stepped out of the elevator. "It's my favorite part of my job. Want to come see?"

It was the best suggestion anyone had made to Edward all day. Grateful for a distraction, he followed Bella down a corridor to two large locked doors, which swung open after she raised her ID badge in front of the sensor. She stopped at the nurses' station and picked up some files before quickly heading down the hall. When she realized Edward was lingering behind, she stopped and gestured to him.

"Come on," she said. "Meanwhile, what are_ you_ doing here?"

"Visiting someone," he said simply.

Bella nodded, and by the time Edward realized their destination, he'd followed her into a room filled with newborn babies.

"When you register in labor and delivery," she explained, "you indicate on the paperwork the name of the pediatrician you're planning on using. After the baby is born, the pediatrician you selected comes to the hospital to check on the infant, discuss any special care that is needed and address any concerns of the parents." After rubbing some sanitizer into her hands, she walked over to a bassinet, comparing the identification number on the baby's anklet to the one in her file. "Have you ever held a life that was only hours old?"

Edward shook his head.

"It's amazing. They are so soft and trusting, and newborns have a specific scent to them..."

Edward no longer heard the words that were coming out of Bella's mouth. Finally, it hit him. He had lost a baby—his baby, a baby he'd wanted even before he knew it existed. The tears came hard and fast, his grief too intense to even attempt to mask it.

Bella still had no idea what was going on, but knew something awful must have happened for Edward to have this kind of outburst. She dropped her files on a desk and took him by the hand.

"Let's get out of here," she said, silently leading him out of the nursery and down the hall, stopping when she noticed an empty room. Bella pulled Edward inside and shut the door. Their solitude was his undoing, and he sank into an armchair, his quiet tears grew into full blown sobs.

Figuring he would tell her what was wrong when he was ready, Bella comforted in the only way she knew. Standing before him, she offered her embrace. He held her tightly, his tears dampening her sweater where he pressed his face below her breasts. She stroked his hair and rocked from side to side, and continued to do so long after his crying ceased.

He spoke quietly, without loosening his grip on her. "I've wanted children for as long as I could remember. I wasn't in a hurry, but it was something I looked forward to, that I could do all the things with my kids that my parents never got to do with me. I never thought..."

Edward stopped talking and closed his eyes, hating himself for his initial reaction to Rose's pregnancy. He then remembered he'd yet to relate to Bella the events of the past twelve hours.

"Last night, Rose had severe abdominal pain and heavy bleeding. We came to the emergency room, and they determined she had an ectopic pregnancy and that the embryo implanted itself in her cervix. They took her into surgery immediately, fearing she would bleed to death if they waited. They did manage to save her, but she had to have a hysterectomy. And obviously, the baby..."

"Shh," Bella whispered. "It's going to be okay."

"Is it? Do I even I deserve for everything to work itself out?"

"Of course you do."

"You may change your mind when you find out what my initial reaction was to hearing Rose's pregnancy wasn't viable."

"I doubt that."

"It was relief. I was _relieved_ because a baby would tie me to Rose forever, and that was the last thing I wanted. I was actually grateful for the demise of my own child. Then you showed me those newborns and now I can't believe I felt that way. I hate myself and I want to mourn, though I don't feel I have a right to. It was all so abstract until about fifteen minutes ago."

"Oh Edward, I'm so sorry. I never would have brought you to the nursery if I had known."

"I'm not upset with you. I'm the one who keeps fucking up. Bella, I'm so sorry about last night at the party. Despite what my actions implied, I wasn't trying to cheat on Rose with you."

"You don't have to do this. Besides, I refuse to allow you to take the blame for something for which I am equally culpable. If you behaved inappropriately, it was with my encouragement. None of that matters now. The important thing is that you and Rose heal."

"There is no Rose and me. I was about to end it when all this happened..."

"What?"

"Last night. I had my bag packed and..."

Bella shook her head. "No. You can't be serious."

"You told me to leave her!"

Bella stepped away from him and covered her eyes with her hand. "I said to leave her or leave me alone."

"Exactly," he yelled, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Well, I thought you would go with Option B."

Edward looked at Bella as if she'd just slapped him. "How can you say that?"

Feeling her own tears well in her eyes, she looked away.

"I'm not Rose," she said, shrugging.

"No, you're not and thank god for that." He grabbed her hands and pulled her toward him. "Bella, look at me." He continued speaking only after she made eye contact. "I wasn't leaving her because you told me to, or because of what I feel for you. I was leaving her because of what I _don't _feel for her. And now..."

Bella was ecstatic to hear feelings for Edward were mutual, but she was careful not to let those feelings show. He still belonged to another woman who happened to be lying upstairs, broken and bleeding. And if Edward went ahead with the break-up before Rose was physically healed, Bella was quite sure she wouldn't want anything to do with him. No decent person would walk away from someone he claimed to love—even if the love was more familial than romantic—at her hour of need. Bella felt this way for moral reasons that were obvious and practical reasons that were not. Specifically, if a man commits a questionable act _for _you, you have no reason whatsoever to believe that down the road, he won't do it _to _you. Ultimately, she had no interest in Edward if his actions called into question his character.

When Bella spoke, her voice was calm and detached. "I want you to concentrate on Rose right now, and yourself. You suffered a huge loss this weekend. Whether you realize it or not, and you do need time to mourn. When everything is back to normal, we'll figure it all out."

Bella's words came out of her mouth sounding convincing enough that she almost believed them.


	13. It's the Wrong Time and the Wrong Place

I don't own _Twilight_.

Thanks to wickedcicada.

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_Chapter Thirteen_

_It's the Wrong Time and the Wrong Place  
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Emmett lingered outside Rose's hospital room, more than a little nervous about crossing the threshold. Though he had no reason not to take Edward's voice message at face value, Emmett didn't think for a moment Edward had called simply to inform him of Rose's impending absence from work. There was a weight to Edward's voice, and not the kind one would expect in the hours immediately following a loved one's brush with death. Emmett was certain Edward left out some fairly pertinent details, but rather than call Edward back and ask him to elaborate, Emmett hopped in a cab and went directly to Pennsylvania Hospital. Emmett knew that whatever sent Rose to emergency surgery had to be both serious and personal; were it not, surely Edward would have been more specific.

Emmett found himself feeling entitled to answers, and he was more than a little surprised when he realized this was not because of deadlines or head counts, but because he cared for Rose and wanted to support her in any way he could. After spending several moments standing in the corridor, Emmett was no calmer than he'd been when he arrived. Realizing his hesitancy did nothing for his nerves, he took a deep breath and entered Rose's room.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him. Though Emmett had no specific expectations regarding Rose's appearance, he'd never imagined that she could look so fragile. Her skin was deathly pale and her platinum blonde hair, usually worn pulled back, rested straight and flat against her chest. There was nothing at all familiar about her, and if not for the fact Rose's face lit with recognition the second Emmett's eyes made contact with hers, he would have seriously questioned whether he had the correct room. Emmett placed the vase of orange roses he'd been holding onto Rose's bedside tray table, almost as shocked by the absence of any other flowers as he was by the absence of Edward. Not knowing what to say, Emmett decided to go with humor.

"The lengths some people will go to in order to get out of work on a Monday."

Though Emmett had never before shown Rose any physical affection, he was possessed of an overwhelming urge to touch her. Though Emmett had similar urges in the past, they were born of a need for physical gratification. Yet when he leaned forward and kissed her forehead before grasping her hand in his, sex was the furthest thing from his mind.

Looping his ankle around the leg of the chair next to her bed, he pulled it close enough that he could have a seat without breaking physical contact. He settled into it and squeezed Rose's hand.

"You came," Rose whispered, offering him a half smile.

"How could I not?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Edward called me."

"Oh." Though Rose fully remembered asking Edward to call Emmett, it seemed like she'd made that request a million years ago. That, coupled with the fact that she expected Edward to be spiteful and not adhere to her wishes, made Emmett's presence before her a bit of a welcome shock.

"What happened?"

"Edward didn't tell you?"

Emmett shook his head. "Edward said you had emergency surgery, and that you would be here for a few days."

Rose dreaded saying the words out loud, but at the same time she knew that if she were ever to date again it was a story she'd be telling each and every time she entered into a new relationship for the rest of her life. She imagined it wouldn't be very different from the way her mother, Lily, described self-indentifying as a stripper—the first time was the hardest. Subsequent instances stung less and less, and by the time the elastic on Lily's homemade G-string wore out, she could admit her profession to strangers as painlessly as she could rattle off the names of her children. Rose knew this because once when she had been naïve enough to ask, and Lily had been drunk enough to answer. Though at the time Lily's words tore at Rose's heart, she now found them to be an odd source of comfort.

Rose had never confided anything of a personal nature to Emmett, but she suspected he would be a good listener. Despite the fact Emmett was her boss, Rose had an odd feeling that were she to break down in front of him it would not lower his opinion of her. Though Rose was not entirely certain exactly what Emmett's opinion of her was, she knew he was fond of her as a person and found her physically attractive. Emmett had made the latter abundantly clear despite the fact company policy strictly forbade fraternization among executives. She wondered if he would still desire her sexually when he found out her femininity was being maintained exclusively via pharmaceuticals.

Knowing it would never hurt as badly as it would this time, Rose took a deep breath and found her voice.

"We left the party last night shortly after you did. We came home and argued a bit, but it was nothing out of the ordinary."

Emmett's eyes narrowed as he tried to process this information. "Do you two fight a lot?"

"Well, yeah."

"Huh. That surprises me."

"Why?"

"Just because the way you've described Edward, I would think he'd go along with whatever you wanted."

"In the past six months or so he wasn't fighting back." Rose closed her eyes and sighed. "I thought morphine was supposed to cloud your thinking. That's what's in the IV, you know. I should be drugged into happy oblivion, not having relationship epiphanies."

Now that she was thinking about it, she could no longer delude herself that Edward hadn't already emotionally checked out of their relationship by the time Bella entered the picture. As much as Rose would like to blame Bella, she knew she realistically couldn't.

Rose opened her eyes and focused on Emmett. "That should have been a sign, right? That Edward didn't care enough to fight. I know what I've told you about him, and though it was how I felt at the time, it wasn't exactly true. He's not weak or cowardly, but somewhere along the line he stopped caring enough to make an effort. I should have figured it out then."

Emmett had no idea what Rose was talking about. "Figured out what?"

"That he was leaving me. Last night, he had his suitcase packed. If I hadn't started bleeding, he would have moved out. But then I couldn't walk or move, and we came to the ER and found out I was pregnant..."

"Whoa. You're pregnant?"

"Not anymore," Rose muttered bitterly. "The embryo didn't implant itself properly, and I lost it."

"The baby?"

Rose cringed. She'd managed to hold it together thus far by not thinking of what was inside her as a baby. But it was a baby, it was Edward's and her baby, a baby she'd wanted long before she knew it existed or that it was tearing her in two.

"_My_ baby," she added in a whisper. "And my uterus, my ovaries and my ability to bear children."

"Oh god, Ro, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine." Emmett brushed away the tears that had fallen beneath her eyes with the thumb of his free hand.

Rose relished the feeling of Emmett's gentle touch on her face, and she realized how much she _needed_ to feel—to be in the moment and sob and grieve. For the first time in over twenty years, her tears flowed freely. Emmett stayed at her side, holding her hand and wiping her face, until a drug-induced sleep claimed her.

Emmett stayed at Rose's bedside until he heard Edward's voice from the hospital corridor, followed by the soft, sweet voice he'd know anywhere. Careful not to wake Rose, Emmett gently disengaged his hand from hers and crept to the door so he could better hear Bella and Edward's conversation.

"I'll stop here. I doubt Rose wants to see me."

"She doesn't dislike you," Edward countered.

"Yeah, right. Have you called Emmett?"

"Yes, I left him a voicemail. Rose asked for him. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to feel about that. She was downright belligerent when I suggested that she not worry about work at a time like this."

"My understanding is that they've always been more than co-workers."

Edward's sharp intake of air reminded Bella of her words from the previous evening, and she immediately regretted her candor.

"I didn't mean to imply anything," she added quickly. "I just know that in addition to the obvious respect Emmett has for her contributions at the office, he always seemed genuinely fond of Rose on a personal level. I'm not suggesting..."

"I know, Bella," Edward interrupted her. "It's okay."

As much as Emmett wanted to remain behind the wall and eavesdrop, he knew he needed to make his presence known before Edward and Bella discovered it for themselves. When he stepped out into the hallway, Edward and Bella looked guilty, though Emmett couldn't ascertain why. There was nothing inappropriate about their proximity to each other. They were not touching, nor did they exhibit any of the usual indications that they'd ever previously engaged in some sort of sexual misconduct. As Emmett studied Bella's face, he thought about the kind of person Bella was. Moral and good, she would feel shame for even entertaining lascivious thoughts about a man who belonged to another.

Except Rose and Edward were no longer together, were they? Rose said Edward had been planning to leave her, not that he'd actually followed through with doing so. Emmett wasn't sure what was going on; he knew only that when Bella's eyes met Edward's, they did so with an intensity of emotion he'd never before witnessed from her. If how to proceed with Rose was still a bit of mystery, Emmett had no doubt what he needed to do about Bella.

* * *

_I'm not scheduled for surgery yet, and am not sure with what regularly updates will come. Still, it feels good to be writing again. _

_Your patience and support mean the world to me. Truly._


	14. Darling When I Say to You

I don't own _Twilight._

Thanks to wickedcicada.

* * *

_Chapter Fourteen_

_Darling, When I Say to You  
_

* * *

Emmett and Bella walked out of the hospital in awkward silence. They shared a cab and superficial pleasantries until they arrived at Bella's apartment.

"Are you coming up?" she asked.

"Just for a moment."

As Emmett rode the elevator with Bella, their conversation remained inconsequential. That changed the second Emmett stepped into her apartment, closing her front door behind him. Bella was still in the process of unbuttoning her coat when he spoke.

"How long have you been in love with Edward?"

Bella hung her coat in the closet before turning to face Emmett. When she spoke, her voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"A while."

"Does he know?"

Bella couldn't imagine that Edward was ignorant of her feelings for him, but at the same time, she'd never verbalized them. Unable to give a proper answer, she offered a small shrug instead.

"Is it mutual?"

"I think so."

Though Emmett knew Bella well enough to be almost positive her relationship with Edward was not physical, he found himself wanting clarification of this anyway. He was fully aware that he and Bella had agreed to see other people; therefore, his curiosity had very little to do with a personal sense of betrayal. However, if Edward had been unfaithful to Rose, Rose certainly deserved to know this.

"Are you sleeping with him?"

"I can't believe you'd ask me that."

"That's not an answer."

"No," she said quietly. "Physically, we've done nothing inappropriate."

"Physically," Emmett repeated, trying to wrap his mind around the significance of Bella's subtle qualification. "Is he why you wanted to see other people?"

"Not exactly. I never thought for a second he would be interested in me that way. I did feel as though I was being emotionally unfaithful, and you were so unavailable to me then. I'm not blaming you for my actions, nor am I pretending they weren't immoral."

"Were you with me just to bide your time until he left Rose?"

"No, Em. I love you. And I believed I was_ in_ love with you..."

"But you didn't end things with us when you realized you were in love with someone else."

"In my defense, I did try to break up with you. You wouldn't hear of it."

"You didn't give me all of the information," Emmett snapped.

"I just didn't want to lose you in my life. I never meant to hurt you."

Bella placed her hand on Emmett's shoulder, but he shrugged it right off.

"You didn't."

"Hurt" wasn't the right word. Emmett struggled to identify the many emotions he was feeling. He was relieved, but he was also angry and a little confused. Mostly, he realized he _did _feel betrayed—not so much because Bella had fallen in love with Edward, but because she appeared to have used Emmett for filler as she waited for Edward to become free.

"Your demeanor says otherwise."

"My girlfriend just admitted she's been in love with someone else for a good chunk of our relationship. Forgive me if I need a moment to process things." Emmett flailed his arms in frustration. "I need to get out of here."

Bella nodded, hating herself. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Emmett opened the front door, before turning back to face Bella. "You've never lied to me. Don't cheapen what's left of our relationship by starting now."

"Is there anything left of our relationship? I'd like to still be friends."

"I'll let you know," he said, pulling the door closed behind him.

Bella had a fairly good idea where Emmett was headed. She grabbed her phone from her purse and frantically typed Edward a text message:

_Emmett knows. _

Emmett left Bella's apartment on foot, hoping a walk in the cold air would clear his head. He wasn't planning on returning to Pennsylvania Hospital, but when he found himself on Spruce Street, he found himself almost spirited back to Rose's room. He poked his head in tentatively, not wanting to confront Edward in front of Rose. As far as Emmett was concerned, that could wait indefinitely. Offering Rose his support, however, could not wait. She was his friend, and though he'd always cared for her, now it was something more than physical attraction and respect for her intellect and more than even the need to commiserate as wronged parties. He felt fiercely protective of Rose, and would be damned if he let Edward hurt her any more than he had already.

Rose smiled when she saw him, and gestured for him to come closer. Emmett leaned over her bed and kissed her forehead, before sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon."

"I had a change of plans." He shrugged. "So, about work. I'll file your short-term disability paperwork tomorrow..."

"Did you come here to talk about work?" she interrupted.

Emmett sighed. "No."

Rose raised an eyebrow.

"Bella admitted to me that she's in love with Edward."

"Like that's news," she said, rolling her eyes.

"She claims it's mutual."

"Oh?" Rose pondered that for a moment. "Are they fucking?"

"No."

"And you believe her?"

"Bella wouldn't do that."

"Right."

"Trust me on this one."

"There are two kinds of people," she explained, her voice completely devoid of emotion. "Those who are out for themselves and make no apologies for it—present company included, of course—and those who are out for themselves and pretend to be martyrs. You can wipe your ass with Charmin or you can use the fucking Sears catalogue; the end result is the same. Both have the potential to chafe, but it's always worse when it happens from the Charmin. It's so soft, you don't expect it. No matter the method, your ass still gets bent out of shape."

"That's quite a metaphor. Are you trying to tell me your ass is broken?"

"There's nothing wrong with my ass. It's the rest of me..." she closed her eyes and sighed.

"You're going to get through this."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Is it awful that I want them to pay?"

"No. It's a huge betrayal. Anger is to be expected. Eventually, you'll get over it."

Rose knew Emmett was right, but she had no desire to get over it. What she wanted to get was revenge.

Ten minutes after sending the text message, Bella received a call from her doorman telling her an Edward Cullen was waiting to see her. She spent the five minutes it took for him to knock on her door wondering how he got to Rittenhouse Square from Olde City in so little time, a question which served as her greeting when he appeared before her.

"I didn't come from the hospital," he explained. "I came from home."

"Yes, and you live in Olde City."

"Actually, I'll be basing out of the Westin until Rose and I figure things out."

"You're going through with it."

"I have to. I can't stay out of obligation."

"You do realize when she's discharged she'll be unable to care for herself at first. She had major surgery; the human body doesn't just bounce back from something like that."

"I'll hire a nurse for nights and stay with her during the day. If I go home and sleep beside her, it sends the message that everything is okay, that we're going back to how things were. I don't want that, and when Rose realizes that I have feelings for you, I doubt she will want it either."

Bella nodded, still barely able to wrap her mind around how much things had changed in the past twenty-four hours.

"I didn't come here to discuss Rose," Edward explained. "I got your text message. What exactly does Emmett know?"

Though she'd promised herself she wouldn't make any declarations to Edward while he was still engaged to marry another woman, Bella was emotionally exhausted. Hiding her feelings had been quite taxing, and though she knew it wasn't fair to Edward, she couldn't deny them any longer.

"That I'm in love with you."

Edward closed the distance between them in two large strides, pulling Bella into his arms and holding her tightly against her chest.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say that. Since the moment I saw you, you've been all I could think about, all I wanted."

He cupped her face in his hands and slowly pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was brief and gentle; it presumed nothing. After he pulled away, Bella found herself wondering how a chaste, tongueless kiss from Edward somehow managed to affect her more than past sexual encounters that went much farther physically. When she opened her eyes, she found find Edward staring at her intently.

"I love you, too."

Edward wrapped his arms around Bella's waist, and she rested her face against his chest. He wanted to do much more than briefly touch his mouth to hers, and the restraint he exhibited shocked even him. As much as he wanted to explore both sets of Bella's lips with his tongue, he didn't want to mar the beginning of their relationship by turning something so meaningful into something he knew would cause Bella great pain.

They stood like that—arms entwined with their bodies pressed together tightly—for several minutes. Finally, Edward found the will to speak.

"May I stay with you tonight?"

Bella's eyes grew wide, and he realized how she was interpreting his request.

"I promise to be a perfect gentleman. I'm just not ready to let you go."

It went against everything she believed, but she was unable to say no to him.

"Okay."

For the first time since he'd arrived, Edward looked around her apartment. "I can't believe I've never been here before."

"It wasn't appropriate; you were engaged."

Edward cringed. "Technically, I still _am_ engaged."

"I know," Bella admitted, lowering her eyes.

"Hey, look at me." Edward gently nudged her chin, and her gaze met his. "It won't be for long. I'm not going to make you the other woman."

Bella smiled and nodded, not wanting to verbally acknowledge that he already _had_ made her the other woman.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about everything and nothing. When it was time to go to sleep, Bella went to the bathroom to change into sweats out of a bizarre sense of modesty. When she reemerged, Edward was waiting for her in bed. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of his muscled chest, and the light smattering of copper hair that formed a path which disappeared beneath the covers.

"Got anything on under that?" She sounded panicked.

"Yes. I said I'd be a gentleman, remember?"

Now relaxed enough to tease him, Bella moved toward the bed. She marveled at the beauty of his upper-body. "You weren't kidding about the squash."

She pulled back the covers and settled into Edward's arms. He held her, but would only do so at arms length. Even though she was fully clothed and his embrace avoided touching her where he wanted to most, her simple proximity made him hard. Determined to conceal his arousal from her, he did not hold her as tightly as he would have liked. Still, the comfort he felt while close to her was beyond description. He closed his eyes and dreamed of a day in the future when Bella would invite him to her bed to do more than just sleep.

* * *

**Sorry about the delay in updates. I had surgery last week and am still recovering, and somewhere along the line I seemed to catch a bitch of a chest cold. I'm plugging away though, and hoping to return to my regular update schedule (3-5 times weekly) in January. **

**Thank you so much for all of your messages regarding my health. They meant the world to me. I'm on the mend now. Really.  
**


	15. A Lady Needs a Rest

I don't own _Twilight._

Thanks to wickedcicada for making this pretty and keeping me sane.

* * *

_Chapter Fifteen_

_A Lady Needs a Rest_

* * *

Edward was more than a little disoriented when he woke in Bella's bed, but not because it didn't feel like he belonged there. Though he'd done nothing more than hold her—fully clothed—all night, the past seven hours seemed to hold more of an emotional significance for him than the past few years had. If he'd had any doubts that he belonged with Bella the previous evening, the morning sun melted them away as easily as frost on a windshield.

Bella's absence, however, troubled him. He hoped her resolve had not weakened during the same moments he found his, and got out of bed to find her. He stopped in front of the mostly closed bedroom door when he heard voices on the other side of it.

"The coffee is a nice ruse, Alice, but we both know why you're here." Bella's voice was battle-weary. "You _are_ aware it's six o'clock in the morning, right?" she said, yawning.

"Of course I am. Emmett told Jasper you two broke up; Jasper passed the news on to me late last night. I waited five whole hours until it was an appropriate time to come over."

Bella sighed. "Look, I totally understand if you're Team Emmett, considering he's Jasper's best friend. And though nothing physical has happened between Edward and me, I _was _emotionally unfaithful."

"Let's get something straight. You saved Jasper from making what would have been the greatest mistake of his life. You did so—despite having nothing to gain and everything to lose—because it was the _right _thing to do. I don't give a shit if you end up with Emmett, Edward, or your doorman. My loyalties are to you. Though between the two of us, if you do wind up dating Edward 'I'm not a cliché; I just play a lot of squash' Cullen, I reserve the right to mock his preppy ass every chance I get." Alice looked over Bella's shoulder and raised her voice slightly. "You may as well join the conversation, Edward. I know you're listening; I can see your feet."

Edward opened the door the rest of the way and smiled sheepishly as he walked into the living room, clad only in the boxers he'd slept in the night before. "Hi, Alice."

"Damn," Alice muttered, raking her eyes over Edward's bare chest. "And here I thought the Sporting Club was just fat former governors on treadmills."

Bella smacked Alice lightly on the shoulder. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Alice said, laughing. "Though if I'd known you had company, I would have brought you two cups of coffee. I should get going."

Bella followed Alice to the door and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you," Bella whispered, "for standing by me."

"It's what real friends do. I don't know what kind of fickle, self-centered sluts you were friends with before." Alice paused and faked a moment of realization. "Oh wait, yes I do."

Bella laughed as she released Alice from her embrace.

"Nice seeing _more_ of you, Edward."

Edward chose not to acknowledge Alice's double entendre. "You too, Alice."

Seconds later, Edward and Bella were once again alone.

"Good morning," he said, smiling.

He was all bed hair, stubble and bare skin, and Bella wondered how she'd ever be able to resist him. Her doubts only intensified when he closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. Bella needed something—anything—to distract her from the flutter in her pelvis and the moisture forming between her legs. In the absence of anything more compelling, she settled on inane chatter.

"Do you have any plans for the holidays?" she asked.

"Nothing major. I'll probably go to my aunt and uncle's for Christmas dinner, but that's about it. I doubt it will even feel like Christmas. I'm fairly sure they won't let me have a tree in my room at the Westin. You?"

"I usually go home, but since my father moved to the West Coast, it's no longer practical."

"You should come with me."

"Thank you for the invitation, but I'd rather wait to meet your family until after..." Overcome with guilt, Bella couldn't finish her sentence. Instead, she stared at the floor, sighing.

"Hey." Edward nudged her face up to meet his gaze. "You didn't cause my relationship to fall apart any more than I caused yours to. You do realize that, right?"

Bella nodded, but remained uncomfortable enough that she felt compelled to change the subject. "Are you going into the office today?"

"Yes, but only briefly. No one does anything the week before Christmas. If nothing else, the timing has been good."

_As if there is ever a good time to lose a child_, Bella thought, pulling away from him slightly.

He amended his statement, as though he sensed her discomfort. "No matter who stays in the apartment, there are arrangements to be made."

Though neither of them verbalized it, their next thought was the same: _and engagements to dissolve. _

"Do you regret it?" he asked.

"What, declaring myself to a man who isn't mine to love? Letting you spend the night here? Touching you and kissing you, all the while wishing I were the kind of woman who would let it go further?"

Bella's words went right to Edward's cock. He moved to adjust himself, to attempt to conceal his arousal from her. This backfired, as his lack of attire made his erection impossible to hide and the movement of his arm only called attention to the growing bulge in his crotch. Her gaze followed his hand, and just when he thought he couldn't get any harder, Bella proved him wrong by licking her lips.

When she looked up at his face, her smile was surprisingly suggestive.

She nodded toward his cock. "At least I know it's worth the wait. Now before I do something I know I'll regret, I'm going to take a shower."

"May I join you?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Yes, unless you were planning on letting me."

Bella laughed, but knew she was playing with fire. "On second thought, you should shower first. Be sure to make it an extra-cold one."

After Edward and his cock disappeared into the bathroom, Bella leaned against her kitchen counter, sighing. For the very time first in her life, she wished she was a bad girl.

A few blocks away, Emmett settled into his desk at work. His building was empty except for a few members of the custodial staff and a security guard, and even though what he was about to do was part of his job description, carrying it out in solitude enabled him to delude himself into thinking he had no ulterior motives. He opened Outlook and began drafting his email to Human Resources—one that would place Rose on short-term disability that would run concurrently with FMLA. The latter was more for him than her; he knew very well she'd return to work within the time allotted her through disability. Legally, upon returning from FMLA, an employee can be placed in any open position that would not be considered a demotion. If there was one thing Emmett wanted to ensure, it was that when Rose returned to work, she would not be his direct report. She would be upset, probably, but she couldn't blame him. He told himself he was simply doing his job, and if it happened to get _the_ job done, so much the better. After all, once he was no longer her supervisor, he would be free to pursue her romantically.

Meanwhile, Rose was handling her own paperwork. Though technically her discharge from the hospital was not against medical advice, it was strongly suggested that she stay another day—something she was completely unwilling to do. She knew Edward was planning on ending their engagement. Frankly, after the way he'd carried on with Bella behind her back, she wanted nothing to do with the bastard anyway.

She didn't trust Emmett's assessment that Edward and Bella had not slept together. For all of Emmett's ability to see through bullshit in the business world, he was incapable of seeing Bella for who she truly was. Over the past few months, he'd painted Bella as such a saint—albeit a whiny and emotionally needy one—that Rose thought that if Emmett walked into a room and found Bella on her knees with Edward's dick in her ass, Emmett still wouldn't believe Bella cheated. Still, on the off chance Emmett was right and Bella would never fuck a guy with a fiancée, her disappearance would be cock-blocking at its finest.

Edward would be unable to break up with her if he couldn't find her. She could pull it off easily, with only a little help from an outside source. She picked up her cell phone and called Emmett's office.

"How did you know where to find me?" he answered.

"Wild guess. I need a favor."

"Anything for you."

"I need you to come get me at the hospital. They won't release me unless I have a ride home. I don't want to call Edward."

"I'll be right over."

"Wait, there's something else." Her voice betrayed her nerves, but somehow, this didn't bother her. She didn't know why she trusted Emmett completely; she only knew that she did. "May I stay with you for a few days? Just until I figure some things out. I can't bring myself to go home..."

"You can stay as long as you want," he interrupted.

"...and I need you to not tell Bella and Edward where I am."

He paused, trying to figure out why she'd care. "You can't hide from him indefinitely. I think you'll feel better the sooner the two of you resolve things."

"There's nothing to resolve. Our relationship is as dead as our baby. I know it won't feel over to him until we have an overemotional discussion that isn't really a confrontation—because he doesn't care enough to tell me how he really feels—in which I return the ring and he tells me he wishes things would have turned out differently, which we both know is a crock of shit. I'm just not ready to deal with that."

It was a lie, of course. She was more than ready to be completely free of Edward, but not without fucking him over a bit first. Three hours later, she was propped up on pillows in Emmett's bed. He said he'd be back to keep her company soon; in the meantime, she allowed Xanax and Vicodin and bad daytime television to do so on his behalf. She wondered if she'd ever feel whole again, but if that wasn't possible, breaking Edward would be the next best thing.

* * *

A few things--

I participated in the Twilight Exchange this round. New stories go up daily. You can read them at http :// community DOT livejournal DOT com SLASH twi_exchange

When mine goes up, it won't have my name on it, but you may be able to guess.

I know it's been a while since I updated, and I appreciate everyone's patience. We're getting to the end. The next chapter will go up tomorrow barring any unforeseen fail.

While I was getting over my cold, I fell in love with Stranger Than Fiction by Masen Vixen. It's a fab AU that's worth a read.


	16. You Know Darling Why

I don't own _Twilight._

Huge thanks to wickedcicada.

This story was commissioned by SassyK as part of the Support Stacie Author Auction. For a wild ride, check out her oneshot "The Memento".

* * *

_Chapter Sixteen_

_You Know Darling Why  
_

_

* * *

  
_

Edward should have been surprised when he arrived at the hospital to find Rose had been discharged, but he wasn't. She'd been prideful for as long as he'd known her. Though he suspected in this instance, her actions were equally motivated by spite, he didn't begrudge Rose her anger—she'd lost far more in the past week than he had. No longer seeing the point in staying away, he checked out of the Westin and returned to his apartment, but not before having the locks changed. He kept this to himself, knowing that Bella would think it was a bastard move. She would have been right, had he done it solely to be a prick. His reason was far more pragmatic. Rose would need to collect her belongings at some point, and this ensured he would be present when she did so. He needed closure to move on, and not just because of Bella. Regardless of how things were between Edward and Rose now, the baby they'd lost was conceived because of _some_ feelings they had for each other, even if the emotions in question were not love.

Days turned into weeks, and soon it was a new year. He knew Rose was doing this out of some convoluted revenge scheme, but could never convince Bella. For this reason, Edward was shocked when he arrived at Bella's apartment early one evening and found her so angry, she was practically breathing fire.

"She's been staying with Emmett!" she fumed. "All this time. Can you believe it?"

"How do you know?"

"Jasper was over there last night. He mentioned to Alice that Em had a female house guest. It _has _to be Rose."

Bella was livid, and not only because Emmett had managed to put one over on her. Even though she was never in love with Emmett—even though technically it didn't matter—she couldn't help but be hurt that Rose was living with Emmett when Bella had not spent a single night at his apartment in all the time they dated.

"What's his address?" Edward asked.

As soon as he had directions, he was out the door. When he arrived at Emmett's building, he was grateful to find the doorman distracted. He breezed right by him and into an elevator. Minutes later, he was banging on Emmett's door. It wasn't long before Rose answered.

She rolled her eyes when she saw him. "If you want your ring back that badly, you could have just served me with papers."

"Do you really think that's what this is about?"

"What else could it be? I saw your suitcase before we went to the hospital. I know you were going to leave me."

"I was planning to move out, yes, but let's be real here. We _both_ left the relationship months before that."

Rose crossed her arms defensively. "Why are you even here?"

"We've known each other for over a decade. I may have fallen out of love with you, but I still care..."

"You don't care how I feel. You just want closure so you can move on with Bella. Well, allow me to give it you."

She gestured Edward inside before hurrying off to the back of the apartment. She returned seconds later, holding her engagement ring.

"Here." She thrust it toward him. "Consider the matter closed."

Edward knew she'd be angry—with everything she lost, she certainly had reason to be. But he never expected her to be so cold.

"I don't give a fuck about the ring." He pushed her hand away. "I just want to talk about our baby."

"You mean my baby."

"No, I mean _our_ baby. I lost a baby, too."

Rose's laughter was cold, even for her. "You honestly think it was yours?"

Edward stood before her, speechless.

"Why are your surprised? Our relationship was dead for months; you've admitted this yourself. Add to it all the nights I didn't come home and my current living arrangement, well, it doesn't take an Ivy League education to read the signs that are right in front of you."

"Emmett?" he asked.

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner. Take it." Rose pressed her engagement ring into Edward's hand, seething. "Now get the fuck out."

As soon as Edward was in the hallway, Rose slammed the door and threw herself against it. She'd thought her lie would somehow even the score—it was something she could take from him in exchange for everything he'd taken from her. Yet it left her feeling emptier than she had before. For the second time in as many months, Rose allowed herself to cry.

As Edward walked back to Bella's apartment, he wanted to be angry. Anger would have been healthier; many a positive end result has been born from anger. As much as he willed that emotion upon himself, it didn't come. He was hurt, even crushed. He felt betrayed. And worst of all, he felt like he'd wasted too much fucking time.

The second Bella opened her door, his hands were on the skin of her shoulders left bare by her camisole. His face was blotchy and his eyes were red. It was obvious he was upset; Bella just wasn't sure by what. Where Rose was involved, there could be any number of possible scenarios.

"What happened?" she asked.

He shook his head and kicked the door closed behind him. Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

Thankfully, Bella didn't make him wait long before she closed the small distance between them. Her hands found his hair and she pressed her body against him.

"Don't ever stop," she whispered before pressing her mouth to his.

He gasped, unable to believe this was happening, despite the fact it had been months in the making. But when her tongue brushed past his lips to touch his own, he could no longer deny this was truly happening. That was, until Bella put her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

He was about to apologize for being so forward when her hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. After discarding it onto the floor, she untied the drawstring of her lounge pants and they soon followed suit. She stood before him—naked except for a pair of plain white cotton panties that were so obviously not meant to be sexy that somehow they were. He marveled at her natural beauty. Her full breasts were pale in a way that made the flush of her nipples that much more pronounced. Her waist was small, and her hips were round. She was far lovelier than he'd imagined.

For the second time that day, Edward was speechless.

Bella moved toward him and began to unbutton his coat. "I love you. You love me. Haven't we waited long enough?"

After she pushed the coat off his shoulders, he quickly pulled his sweater and t-shirt over his head. Bella ran her fingertips over his chest.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to do this that first night. It took everything I had to behave. I wanted to touch you, to lick you..." Her tongue darted out of her mouth and traced the perimeter of his nipple as her hands began to work on the fly of his jeans. "And when you got hard, I could see it—a tiny silver of skin where your cock pushed your boxers open. I wanted to touch it, to suck it. I don't even like doing that, you know. But I wanted to do it to you."

She pushed his jeans and underwear down his legs and his erection sprang free. She wrapped her hand around his length and ran her thumb over the tip, spreading his precum around before raising her hand back to her mouth.

"Mmm," she said, sucking her thumb.

Though he was more than a little surprised at how brazen she was, Edward wasted no time in kicking off his shoes and discarding what was left of his clothing. He picked Bella up and carried her to her room, where he placed her on her feet beside the bed.

"Promise me something," he said.

"Anything."

"Promise me you won't fake it."

Her eyes widened, and she looked almost afraid. "On one condition."

He repeated her earlier answer. "Anything."

"Promise me you won't be gentle."

"Oh, so the lady likes it rough." He leaned forward and nipped her ear. "I was raised to give the lady I love exactly what she asks for."

More aroused than she'd ever thought possible, she fell backward onto the bed. Lifting her hips, she pushed her panties over her bottom and down her legs before letting them fall open. Edward licked his lips at the realization that momentarily, he would be licking hers. He lifted her foot and kissed his way up her leg, stopping to suck her inner thigh. Just when Bella thought he'd never touch her where she needed it most, he pushed two fingers inside her, and moved his tongue to her clit.

"Can you suck it?" she whispered.

Not long after he complied, her gasps became moans.

"So close," she panted.

It wasn't long before she came undone, her words no longer intelligible. Edward slid up her body, stopping only to taste her nipple before settling his hips between her thighs. The moment she opened her eyes, he plunged into her.

She was hot and tight, and if the way her walls spasmed around his cock was any indication, she'd kept her word. It was his turn to keep his. He pulled out almost completely before slamming into her again.

And again.

And again.

As much as he wanted to make her climax again, he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

Still inside her, he rolled onto his back. The view of her on top of him—her tits bouncing as she rode his cock—was by far the most erotic sight he'd ever seen. He reached forward and stroked her above where they joined. Her moans intensified, and moments later he felt her tighten around him. She fell onto his chest as he released inside her. For the next several minutes, she lay against him, his hands in her hair and himself still in her.

He was the first to speak. "I think I already know the answer, but I'm going to ask anyway. Did you keep your promise?"

Bella couldn't contain her smile. "I did. Twice, in fact. Though I should really thank you for keeping yours; it's what enabled me to keep mine."

Edward wanted to ask her so many questions, but they could wait for another time. He wanted to enjoy the feeling of finally holding the woman he loved, the woman he would do his best to protect against any unnecessary pain—including the fact that during the time they were dating, her ex-boyfriend impregnated his ex-fiancée. Edward wondered briefly if by not telling Bella about the paternity of Rose's baby, he was starting their relationship with a lie. He was about to tell her, but then he remembered Bella's fake smoking and fake orgasms—both fabrications designed to spare the feelings of others. Though a small voice inside him warned that this situation was different, he fell asleep seconds later, too content to care.


End file.
